Hmmmm… I think I wasn’t clear about Otto’s brothers in my last post. But thanks to all of your suggestions, I think we have our monikers worked out. The brother who DID SO PRACTICALLY BEG FOR A NICKNAME regardless of whatever damage control he’s trying to do now is definitely going to be Nearly Nickless from now on. He is not, however, the brother who came through with the GPS. That brother shall henceforth be known as Wild Thing.
Assuming that Nearly Nickless continues speaking to me after I publish this, if he wants to top Wild Thing’s wedding gift, I suppose he could get us a pony. Or maybe a Prius! To put the GPS in!
[Hey, I can’t help it that I want to get my hands on that GPS so that I can love it and hug it and squeeze it and call it George. It’s not that I wasn’t really looking forward to calling Otto every time I went out so that I could cry “I have no idea where I am!”, but I just suspect I will learn to cope with the disappointment while I drive around my new town to the dulcet tones of turn-by-turn directions that do not come from a husband who’s in the middle of teaching a class.]
Due to the fact that I was very busy running around screaming “LICE! LIIIIIIIIIIIIICE!” last week, I totally forgot to mention that the very day the kids were branded with the Scarlet L, Monkey had his music concert at school. So we didn’t just have to de-louse, we had to de-louse in a hurry so that we could get to the school that night for his big musical debut.
The program was about the moon, based upon some book whose title I didn’t catch, but basically we had about 40 first-graders all dressed up according to the different month’s moons. So, I don’t know, one of the summer months is a Corn Moon, so there were kids dressed like corn. And one of the months involved a couple of kids dressed like flowers being circled by a kid dressed like a rabbit.
Do these things ever make sense? No, they do not. But it doesn’t matter, because the kids are cute and watching them all squirm around on stage is entertainment enough.
Monkey was… ummm… moon grass? He stuck his head through a posterboard festooned with grass, and pranced his way around the stage when it was his turn to get up. He danced, he twirled, he grinned from ear to ear. All of this just about an hour after having his head slathered with toxins and being combed out for an hour with a teeny tiny comb.
I am pretty darn fond of that kid, is what I’m saying.
While discussing summer plans with Otto:
Me: So we’ve been invited for the 4th, if you want to go.
Otto: Cool, sounds fun.
Me: Good, because if you didn’t want to go I was just going to take the kids and go without you.
Otto: Wait… you were just going to DITCH ME?
Me: … just for the DAY….
Otto: Oh, great. I see how it is. Less than two months into our marriage, we’ll be, and you’re just going to take off.
Me: Well, yeah, but JUST FOR THE DAY.
Otto: No, no, don’t try to make it better.
Otto: Just good to know where your priorities are.
Otto: I rank below your friends, that’s fine.
Me: Okay, well it WAS going to just be for the day….
I feel that our cohesion as a couple who drives one another insane is coming along quite nicely.
Hey, did I mention that I have been crazy-swamped with work lately? Maybe I didn’t, because I was too busy working. Ha! I slay me! Anyway, most of the time there’s not much to tell, here, because it’s, um, work. And often sort of boring.
But! Today! I get to tell you that all of my deepest, darkest—okay, not darkest, maybe weirdest—dreams for meta-fulfillment have come true. If you’ve been reading me for a long time you may remember those early days back when I hung out my shingle (amidst much trepidation and with a bottle of Ativan clutched in my hand). Back then I had no idea if I could really make it as a freelance writer. And today, I’m not only doing it, I’m doing it, in part, by writing about being a freelance writer. Come on over and visit, and be sure to check out the entire (fabulous) site. You may notice I’m in excellent company over there.
And heaven knows I needed another place to blog.