Ron was staring out the window in deep contemplation.  In his arms was little Heyzeus, who has not been feeling very well.  In Ron’s hand was a marinade injector filled with some kind of pink/purple liquid.

Great. All I could think of was “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Ron has lost it and he’s going to take the little dog out first.

We are all a little sleep deprived because of Heyzeus not feeling well. He is restless and likes to let us know that. We are about 99.9% sure that Heyzeus has another bladder infection, which will be his third since July.  This will necessitate a trip to the vet and we’ll have to have tests run.  Ultimately, Zeus will have another antibiotic, which I’m not excited about. Plus, this process is not cheap. The prospect of having to pay another $200-$300 right before Christmas and just after Shelby’s 12th birthday is not a real attractive option at the moment.

Ron thought he’d do a little research to see if there was anything we could do that would help us avoid the need for pharmaceuticals. He read online that dogs with bladder infections, like people, respond positively to cranberry juice & apple cider vinegar.

We had some cran-raspberry juice cocktail, so Ron thought he’d give it a try. Since Heyzeus will not drink the juice on his own, Ron thought he’d try to shoot some into the back of the dog’s throat to see if it would help.

At that point I realize that the needle has been removed from the marinade injector. Whew!

I had a feeling that this was not going to go well. We know that Heyzeus really hates anything that sprays, which is why Ron was stalling contemplating.  He was trying to decide the best way to do this that would keep him from serious injury from a freaked out 16lb terror.

Luckily I remembered that we also had apple cider vinegar and roast beef.  After a brief discussion, it seemed safer to feed Heyzeus a piece of roast beef soaked in apple cider vinegar.

We gave the roast beef to Heyzeus and he snarfed it up in less than a second, vinegar and all. So we got something into Heyzeus that we hope will help. And Ron got to keep his face intact.  I call that a win/win.  Crisis averted…for now…

Next door to this particular McDonald’s happens to be a florist/greenhouse.  As he was approaching, a man that works at the florist stopped Ron with a unique question: “Hey!  Are you a fisherman?”

What?!?

Though Ron thought it was very odd, Ron told the man that he used to fish when he was younger, but hadn’t done so in quite a while.

“Oh…hmm…I thought you looked like a fisherman.”

It had been a good week or two since Ron had shaven, so I’m sure he totally looked like he was rockin’ the Deadliest Catch look, but we’re in Illinois.

So the guy then asks what it is that Ron does.  And since Ron will patiently talk and listen to whoever about whatever, he explained that he’s a truck driver for a local transportation company.

The guy asked a few more questions about his job and Ron chatted away with him  Then the man asks my Fine Fisherman, “So by chance, are you Hawaiian?”

Huh?

Poor Ron is so used to people questioning his ethnicity that he doesn’t think anything of it anymore.  So he explained that he was not Hawaiian, but he gets that a lot, along with Samoan and the occasional Pakistani.  The later I don’t really see in him, but I’ve been present when he’s been asked.

The man seemed very perplexed by my Hawaiian Hunk-a-burnin’-love and responds with, “Well if you don’t mind me asking, what are you then?”

Dude…He’s Ron.

Ron never gets upset or offended, he just always explains he has one parent that is white and one that was black.  He rarely includes that he was raised in a small farm town because if some one is already asking, that last one will have him answering questions for a long time.

The man seemed happy to finally have that mystery explained, “Oh!  That explains it.  Your facial features were totally throwing me.”

That super foreign two eyes, one nose, and one mouth combination is a rare one!

The man then tells Ron that it was nice talking to him and he’d better let Ron get back to his day.  Ron tells the man to have a good day and heads over to McDonald’s cracking up about this bizarre encounter.

As Ron is walking out of McDonald’s and past the florist to his truck, the man stops him again, “Hey!  Hold on a second.  I have something for you.”

Reluctantly Ron waits while the man runs back into the shop.  He had no idea what on earth this man could have for him.

A moment later the guy comes out with a hanging basket of purple flowers and hands them to Ron.  Yes…the man gave my Samoan Stud a basket of flowers.

Ron thanked the man and headed back to his truck.  So for the rest of the day, Ron made his pick-ups and deliveries with a basket of purple flowers riding shotgun in his truck   You can imagine the fun his co-workers had with that one!

Ron's Basket of Flowers

This morning I woke up at 4:45AM determined to put in a good 30-45 minutes on the treadmill before I had to take Ron to work.  (I know that doesn’t seem like much of a workout, but I am currently in an oval shape and really quite pathetic.) After a quick side trip to the bathroom, I groggily unearthed the treadmill from the mound of laundry that was resting on it and unsuccessfully tried to turn it on.  I had to wake Ron up so he could show me that I hadn’t hit the right “on” button.  Now I was ready to walk.

Since I needed to wake up, I started at a nice slow pace.  It really wasn’t too bad.  A few minutes later I increased the speed to get a nice brisk pace going.  Now I was beginning to wake up and I was feeling good that I was doing something good for me.

About 15 minutes in, I started to feel it.  I was all sweaty and my feet were starting to burn.  This is when I realized that maybe it wasn’t the best decision to try to wake myself up by walking because I had forgotten a couple things…namely a bra and some shoes.

Do I stop and get those two items?  Heck no!  My inner Jillian Michaels was screaming at my fat ass to get into gear.  “Come on fatty.  You are never going to get any smaller or be any healthier if you quit in the middle because of a little discomfort.  Keep going!!!!”

Twenty five minutes into my self-imposed sadistic treadmill tryst, all I could do was stare at the clock and hope that 5:30 would hurry up and get there.  I was uncomfortable, sweaty, and I missed my bed…not to mention my feet were in agony.  And to add to my embarrassment at being so pathetically out of shape, I now had an audience of two dogs and one fiancé.

The poor guy just wanted to go to work but inner Jillian screamed again, “Come on, Beluga Butt!  If you quit now, you’ll just prove to yourself again that you have no willpower.  You’re stronger than that!  Go!  Go!! Go!!!”

At 5:30 on the dot I told my inner Jillian to stick it and turned the torture device off.  I tried to step onto the floor…but the floor kept on going.  Luckily the wall was closer than it appeared and I was able to brace myself and shut my eyes to try and make the spinning stop.  I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to see Ron standing in front of me.  How embarrassing.  I was having a hard time standing up straight, let alone walk anywhere.  How was I such a huge hot mess after just 30 minutes of walking on a treadmill?!?

Within a few minutes I felt much better and was able to get my screaming feet into a pair of flip flops to drive Ron to work.  On my way home from taking him, I got a text from my co-worker reminding me to bring my shoes to work so we could walk at lunch.

Crap!  I had totally forgotten!!  As it was I was having a hard time standing in my flip flops.  What if I had the same pathetic dizzy reaction when walking with my co-workers?  I know Jodi and Connie would understand, but how would I explain it to my boss that the reason I passed out in the liquor store parking lot next to work on my lunch break was because I am fat and out of shape and the lot happened to be at the top of the hill at the end of our walk?  They all know how much I love my margaritas.  I don’t think I’d have a leg to stand on…literally and figuratively.

So my embarrassment was not over yet.  I had to explain to my co-workers what I did this morning and why I couldn’t walk today, even though the day could not have been more perfect for a nice stroll.  So I did…and once the hysterical laughter died down a bit, they were very understanding and supportive.  Lord knows this isn’t going to be pretty, but I am determined to keep this up.

As I limped away, I thought about how lucky I am to have family, friends, and co-workers there to support me.  Just a few more weeks and hopefully it will get easier…

(mocking his sister) “Last night I was, like, so looking at my old yearbook.  And, like, I am seeing how ugly the other kids are.  And, like, I was so hotter than them. And, like, i was looking at myself now and I am, like, so much way hotter than I was then.”

At this point, Fiance and I can hardly contain our laughter. But it made Shelby mad, so we all quit.  But now Clayton thinks that he should become a comedian.  Then he informed us that since I was the funnier parent, we should team up and be a ‘comedian team’.  So now he is running around trying to write new material.

“Cuz, like, I don’t know where I get it.  It just pops into my head and it’s just so funny!”

So you’re saying it’s like a gift from God or something?

“Exactly!”

If his ego is this healthy at 7, the teenage years are really going to be something!

Before we got to our destination, my dad called and I got all distracted with the conversation I was having with him. Before I realized it we were at the library.

Now, the library is good.  But it doesn’t have Blizzard-y goodness. But it did have my mom that I needed to talk to.

Forty-five minutes later we were on our way back to DQ. Only now the drive-thru line is all the way out to the street and most of the parking places were taken.  Clayton and I ‘created’ a space and decided just to stand in line. Apparently there is nothing else to do in Bartonville on a week night except get ice cream.

The guy in front of me had commented that same observation and we had a nice chuckle.  Then as an aside he says:

“Well unless you have your dealer on speed dial or plan to drink all night.”

I’m thinking….What?!? Do you see my 7-year-old standing here?  But I decide to go along with it.

So is that something prevalent around here now?  I grew up here but only recently moved back.  It’s been 10 years since I have been here and I know things have changed. But I didn’t think it was like that.

(sputtering) “Oh well…I guess it’s just in who you know.”

Yes…interesting conversation.  Thanks for sharing.

About that time, an SUV pulls away from the drive-thru window as I happened to look that direction.  I noticed the guy driving to be the boy that I had a HUGE crush on in junior high.  I kind of chuckled at the memory but not quiet enough for Clayton not to notice.

“Who was that?”

Thinking the guy and his family were driving away I decide just to explain it to Clayton.  What else were we going to talk about while in line…who his pot dealer is?

Oh, that guy driving that SUV was the boy that I had a huge crush on in junior high.  I haven’t seen him in years.  He’s still pretty cute.

Being the dorky mom that I am, I added in a dramatic sigh and a wink to let him know I was joking.

“Oh, you mean that guy that is walking up behind you right now?  The tall one in the red tee-shirt?  You mean that guy?”(as he is so obviously pointing him out)

I turn my head and Clayton wasn’t kidding.  The guy was right behind me.  There was something wrong with his order. Thanks, Clay. That’s not embarrassing at all!

(with a wild look of mischief on his face) “Mom, I am so going to tell him that you like him.”

I suddenly feel like I am in 7th grade again all awkward and embarrassed.

Dude, I’m telling you right now.  Don’t you dare!

(Now with the Mr Burns “Excellent” fingers, “Oh, I am Mom.  I am so going to tell him you like him!”

I realized that my kid is about to embarrass the hell out of me.  At 12-years-old I managed to keep my adoration unknown because I would have rather died than let this boy know I liked him. And now, more than 15 years later, I’m about to be busted out by my 7-year-old kid in front of the entire DQ staff and Stony McStonerson.

Threatening Clayton with the naked baby pictures all these years seemed to be back-firing. Dammit!

Mercifully, the chick had his sundae ready and was handing it to him. The guy apologized for delaying our order with his ice cream and tells us to have a good night.

This was Clayton’s chance…and like a good boy that likes a roof over his head, all he did was smile and say, “Have a good night.”

But as soon as we walked in the door at home, the whole story came pouring out to finace and Shelby.  Fiance even choked on his Blizzard-y goodness laughing at me.  I’m so happy I can bring this much joy to my family.

***IT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN OR WORK***

Ms PH shared this Picture Is Unrelated web site with a me a couple months back.  I was perusing through the posts the other day and  happened upon this video.  I was so shocked and entertained, I immediately forced fiance in from mowing the lawn to come watch. He was so entertained that parts of the backyard are still not mowed.  I feel compelled to share this with the rest of you (all 5 of you!)

After viewing it, I would like to discuss what is most ‘WTF’ about this particular performance. Fiance and I both agree but I’m curious to see what others think.  I warn you…the song is quite catchy and could remain in your head for days.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qn1bnMyN4Zw

He got back and was helping put away soda in the refrigerator.  I told him I’d planned to put it in the cooler. But since he made it fit in the fridge, I wasn’t going to argue the point.  As long as the soda was cool, I didn’t care.  After all, we have a large freezer in the garage to accommodate the extra ice.

Our friends came over and brought all kinds of yummy munchies and thoughtful house warming gifts.  We really do have the best friends.  And it seemed as though every one had a great time,even though there was an almost beating of a guest by a down spout…but that’s another story altogether!

After the party, we were up late with a friend from Chicago that we rarely get to see.  So today was a lazy day.  At dinner, I remembered that we should have an abundance of ice and ask Fiance to grab it from the garage.  He then informs me that there is probably none left.

But isn’t there any in the big freezer?

F: “No. I used that for the keg.”

But what about the ice for the cooler that we ended up not using?

F: “I put it in the cooler.”

But the cooler had nothing in it.

F: “Yeah…but you told me to put it in the cooler.”

Really?…I told you to put it in the cooler so it could keep the soda cold that you decided needed to go in the fridge.  I didn’t realize that I needed to tell you that since you decided to put the soda in the fridge, that we no longer needed the cooler.

F: “I didn’t know if any one else would need the cooler in case they brought their own drinks.”

He did have a point, though I’m sure the ice would keep better in the freezer until a friend mentioned needing the cooler…but whatever.  I was not even mad or aggravated. I was more in awe at the train of thought happening before me.  Until…

F: Look…I learned a long time ago to not even question what you tell me to do.  I know what happens when I question your crazy.

If he knows by now not to “question my crazy”, you’d think he’d know by now not to fire a shot like that if he’s dealing with crazy.

You don’t want to question my crazy?  Really?  Because it does sound totally insane to keep ice in the FREEZER…of all places.

F: “Look, I just meant that I wasn’t going to bug you with the ice since we had all kinds of other things going on.”

F, that is just asinine! Why is it so hard to think for yourself that ice will stay ice longer in a frozen environment…like a freezer?

Then Shelby walks int he room to ask a question.  She should have known better.

Shelby – if you were at a party and looking for soda, where would you look for it?

S: (After looking at both of us) “Umm…well…if there was a cooler outside, I would look there. If it wasn’t there, I’d look for it in the fridge.”

But if there was no cooler being used and you had a bag of ice, where would you put it?

S: (Looking at both of us again) I just wanted to know what was for dinner.  Can I go now?

F: “Run away while you still can!”

Don’t tell her that.  You’re just afraid to be shown that you are not smarter than a 5th grader!

Shelby then runs away.

Dude, seriously…this whole thing is just stupid.  I just wanted some ice for my soda.

F: “It’s in the fridge. Why do you need ice?”

Because I’m insane and want it in a glass…with ice! I am so going to blog about this…

F: “I figured as much.”

My point?  Do any of you out there have this stupid of a conversation that turned into an honest-to-goodness argument with your significant other?  Do you think this is just a bi-product of my aggravation with him for his seven-plus hours straight of playing video games before this?  Could this type of thing be the reason that I have a ‘crazy’?  Help me out here…please…

Clayton:”Heyzeus punched me in the eye.”

Heyzeus punched you?

Clayton: “Yeah.  And it hurt.”

(Fiance), did you see his eye?

Fiance: “Yeah…Clayton decided to jump on me so I pinned him. Then Heyzeus stepped on his eye.”

Nice. Dude, you need to go get an ice pack. It looks like you’re going to have a black eye.

Clayton: “OHMIGOD!  This is like the fifth time this week that you have told to go get an ice pack.  It’s like I better just keep one on me all the time!”

Clayton has had a rough week or so.  He was hit in the face with a softball. While he and I were roughhousing,  Maggie jumped on the bed, stepping on his neck.  But the best one had to be when he decided to fling open the garage screen door as hard as he could, just to have it spring back and slam his ear (yes, his ear) in the door.

I believe he got his coordination from me.  Poor kid!

I’m sure most of you have this person in your office.  She isn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch.  She’s easily in her early 30′s, married with a kid or two.  Gossip magazines are a bit of a religion and refers to a handful of celebrity hunks as her true love or boyfriend.  She could possibly be the most outwardly judgemental person in the room. (I know…irony.)

I work in a medical setting, so swine flu H1N1 is a topic of conversation more frequently than in most places.  While at lunch, I happened to catch a snippet of a conversation and it happened to be this darling’s part:

“Who knows why they call it swine flu. It originated down in Mexico.  It could have been meant to be wine flu for all we know. Those people down there just don’t speak English real good.”

Would it be wrong to go over and flick her in the forehead?

Speaking of swine flu H1N1…Have you noticed the price of everything pork has dropped at the grocery store.  Who’s family is having pork chops and lots of bacon?  Mine is!

Have any of you read the Twilight series yet?  (My friends closest to me are now rolling their eyes) If so, you understand my confusion with my obsession.  I almost NEVER read a book more than once.  My only exceptions are To Kill a Mockingbird and The Secret Life of Bees (and if you haven’t even read those, head straight to a library or book store. Now!) I am now reading these books for a second time and I’m pretty sure I’ll read them a third.  So I’m a 30-year-old now drooling over a 16-year-old werewolf and perpetually 17-year-old-vampire. God, I hope I don’t have to register on some site where I have to tracked for the rest of my life while not being allowed to go near a school!

Is it wrong that I was kind of proud of the fact that hot girls would not stop hitting on my fiance at beer fest? I was very entertained until he answered the do-you-have-a girlfriend question with ‘no’.  He answered ‘a fiance’ and motioned over to me.  Then I got the head to toe appraisal and the catty congratulations.  I so wanted to say, “Look, skinny bitch.  You may be young and beautiful and have a discernible waist with almost no stretch marks. But you know what I bring to the party?  Yeah…I make him dinner.  I bitch at him about the checkbook and about putting his shoes away.  I even make him clean up dog poop.  So there (then I would very maturely stick out my tongue). But instead I just thanked her and smiled.  Then I teased him about his new girlfriends all the way home.

Speaking of tormenting the love of my life.  Have any of you heard the remake to Careless Whisper by Seether (originally by Wham!)?  It is not good and kind of sad.  I know the fiance HATES the song with a passion.  On the way to work almost every morning, one of the local radio stations is sure to play it. And most of the time I force him to listen to it while I sing along. (Who doesn’t like that scenario at 5:30 in the morning?) It’s like my passive aggressive way I get back at him for making me get up so freaking early.

Until the other day…I was on my way home after dropping him off and I kept the song on.  And I was still singing to it…But in the same style as George Michael.  It wasn’t until after the song was over did I realize that I was really into it.  I bet I made quite a few people crack up on their way to work as I’m singing and rocking out at the top of my lungs driving from East Peoria to Bartonville. Now I find myself longing to hear the song more.  Is it my deep seeded resentment of George Michael for breaking up that brilliant duo Wham!? Is it my not-so-hidden love of all bad music? Is this a sign that I desperately need a better stereo in my car…maybe one that doesn’t have a tape deck? I think I may be in crisis here.

OK…that was my first stab at Random Tuesday’s.  For more Random Tuesday’s, go visit Keely at the Un-Mom. Have a great day!!
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7imqO-OBVk

B: Bridget the Midget at Elliot’s June 5-6

Me: Sweet…Is that a date then?

B: Only if my wife lets me go. With another woman. To see a midget. Naked.

Me: I love you!