Freaky Friday!

Well, I'm home on out of school suspension for lude acts in the school boiler room.
(Funny, Coach didn't think they were lude when it was just the two of us down there last week!)


For the most part, I'm enjoying a break from the boring routines of the public education system. (Plus, I don't have to sneak off to the bathroom for my afternoon cocktail.)

Today we had to take the beautifully deceptive screaming demon in for her Well Baby Check-Up. Turns out that I did NOT give birth to a "Spawn of Satan," I just have a little girl with a sore mouth. (maybe it's just a ploy to keep me from selling her on Ebay because the thought definately crossed my mind).

So today little Ellie got her first medicine. She gets 1 drop of Tylenol every four hours and 2 mL of goop in her cheeks 4 times a day for the next week. I figured she was going to be a real pill about taking medicine, but it turns out she's an instant drug addict. I put her drop of Tylenol on her tongue thinking it would come right out, but instead her eyes lit up, she smacked her lips and licked the tiny bit that was on her bottom lip. Okay, so maybe I'm jumping the gun on the whole pail-killer junkie. I'm sure it was just the grape flavoring that sparked her interest. (Then again, we're still waiting for the paternity results from the running back!)

Considering that my day started at 7:30 AM you'd think I'd have a whole lot of brilliant knowledge to share with you. Sadly, the day has just drug along like a pimple on a snail's butt.

There were a few key highlights like my incredible brain-fart at Wal-Mart. Here I am counting carefully as we shop to make sure we don't go over what I have in my purse because Daddy Dearest left his checkbook at home. I've got it figured to a tee. I rounded everything up and was right on track. WRONG!! Clearly I have lost the brain cells that have to pay taxes (they are probably sitting in some Federal Prison for tax evasion) and I obviously forgot that you have to pay for those three Father's Day cards you have in your hand (but they're just PAPER!!) So thank goodness for Daddy Dearest and the $5 that went on his VISA card!!

Heading home we are stopped next to a little school bus (or as they prefer to be called "length-challenged educational trasportation vehicle"). On the front end of this bus is a bar-like apparatus that looks as if it is designed to break your kneecaps upon impact. The bar is hinged to open straight out in front of the bus.
--I turn to Daddy Dearest and ask, "What is that? A plow you over at the knees bar?"
--He responds with a perfectly straight face, "Haven't you seen those before? They swing out like so *swings his arm* and apparently they are designed so that when a car hits it, the car is stopped or transported to another dimension!"
Come to find out it's actually a crossing guard to prevent kids from walking too close to the front end of the bus, but I still like the idea of transporting drivers to another dimension which Daddy Dearest says must be like hell since everyone there damn near plowed into a school bus.

Speaking of highlights, here's one for you:

Dear Miss Twenty-Something Pharmacist at Wal-Mart:
Just because I'm shopping in Wal-Mart does not mean I am some white-trash wellfare case of a Mommie. (Okay, so I'm white and I get some State assistance, but you're just jealous!) Anyway, I'm not stupid that's for sure. So clearly if I thought my child was ill I would take her to the doctor before I asked some Medical School drop-out what I needed to do (Thus the reason I said "The DOCTOR recommended an OTC treatment!") I have a presciption for the yeast in her mouth and if you would actually speak to me rather than using the cashier as a "go-between" you would know that! And while I'm at it, I've been lucky enough to have never had to deal with ickiness down below, but even I know (with my inferior intellegence) that my daughter does NOT have Athlete's Foot on her bottom! Now I know why I get my presciptions filled by a REAL pharmacist on the other side of town!! Please contact the cheap online degree program that educated you in common medicines and tell them you need a refresher course.

And to top the day of, I went in this afternoon and had a tire patched up. I learned that getting a patch costs 1/4th of what my tires cost. Seems like a lot to me, but hey who wants to spend $48 when $12 will do the trick! Anyway, not the point. The point was, I swung by to see if they could squeeze my tire in after I ran to the bank. Sure enough that wouldn't be a problem. They aired me up and I ran off to fetch some cash since I had previously gone over-budget at Wal-Mart (damn taxes anyway!). I get back, hoo haw, boring, jack it up... yippy there's a locking nut, good thing the socket was in the trunk... seriously, who's going to STEAL my tire? Anyway, everything goes fine, it was just a nail, he found it quick... bing bang we're out of there quicker than a quarterback leaving a boiler room! So why am I boring you with this story? Well because, I go to pay the man $12.88 with tax.

Mechanic: Would you like a reciept?
Me: No, don't worry about it. (I don't think there's a guarantee on patching a tire)
Mechanic: Well, if we're going to skip the paper work, how about we just skip Uncle Sam too. That'll be $12 even.

Now see, this is why I live in small towns. Granted, the man might someday end up sharing a cell with the part of my brain that was shopping in Wal-Mart today, but the guy won my business in the future.
Even though it was only 88 cents.
Even though he might not do the same thing next time.
Even though the government would probably give him a life sentence an $10,000 in fines for that 88 cents.
It's not about the 88 cents, or saving a buck three months from now.
It's about knowing the value of a customer and not nickling and diming everyone to death.
It's about just being generous sometimes.
It's about a round of drinks on the house and a Christmas bonus for your employees.
It's about a hand shake and an honest living.
It's about sitting down for dinner at the end of the day.
It's about family, neighbors, and community.
It's about holding your head up and loving your life.
It's about all the things that used to be right about this country before big business and climbing the corporate ladder became a priority.
It's about $12 to feed his family and 88 cents that will light up my daughter's eyes when it's in her piggy bank, but it's really about the values of people today.

That being said, I think it's about time for me to catch a quick nap. Seems the Coach isn't the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve. Turns out that he had no idea his star quarterback can't add two plus two! I reacon he'll be needing some of my "special" tutoring if he's going to be eligible to play in next week's big game. And since the Math teacher happens to be a good "friend" of mine, I don't see how anyone else will be able to do the job as well as I can. I have no doubt that I'll get a full pardon from the Principal come Monday morning.

Some parent's are driving around with
"My child is an Honor Student"
bumper stickers.
Other's are proud to announce,
"My kid might not be an Honor Student but he can kick your kid's ass."

As for my mother? She got herself a bumber sticker that says,
"My daughter might not be the Head Cheerleader, but she still screwed the whole team!"

Since when is being a slut considered a crime in this family?
(Or for that matter... drunk, junkie, head-case, loser, bum, asshole... the list goes on and on.)