Just Because I'm Out of Town

Far, far away, in the land of "big sky" the Mertz family has been enjoying a nice little vacation. A time to get away from their normal routine and pressures of daily life. An adventure meant to excite the senses, see new places, and recharge their internal batteries. But alas, the aggravations and frustrations of things back home still somehow have managed to weasel their way back and disrupt the relaxation. Actually, it was two phone calls about fifteen minutes apart.

First phone call:

My friend's son has been watching our dog for us, and he goes over to check on Maestro three times a day. Since we live in the epicenter of Hell's Half Acre in the summertime, Maestro cannot be left outside for fear of heat stroke or other heat related negatives. So the friend has been faithfully setting his alarm clock and tending to the dog just as we had asked. He has also been advised that Maestro is STRONG and should not be taken on a walk and we generally don't let him play with other dogs.

(Enter my dumbass next door neighbor with her 95lb black lab PUPPY)

Neighbor Boy has been asked by Dumbass if she can bring the lab over to play with Maestro the next time that he goes over to our house. Not only that, but she tells Neighbor Boy that "we let Lab and Maestro play together all the time"...........UMM, NO!!! We hardly ever let the two dogs play together because the Lab is still only a year old, she's ENORMOUS, and she has a tendency to pounce, scratch, and play rough. I don't feel comfortable with the way she plays, knowing that Maestro might not think that her way of playing is actually a fight.

Dumbass DID take her dog over to play, and thankfully both dogs just had a fun little romp in our backyard without incident. This WILL be addressed with Dumbass when we get back home from vacation though. She was out of line to ask our dog sitter to do something that WE don't typically do.

Second phone call: (15 min later)

My father in law has called to ask Fred if he can get into our house through the garage. After Fred confirms that there is access through the garage, his father lets him know that we have DISTANT family in from out of town and he has offered the use of OUR HOUSE overnight.....and then has the BALLS to ask, "Is that okay?"

WHAT THE FUCK!?!

We flew out early in the morning, several days ago. And although we picked the house up and tidied up, we didn't clean as if someone were going to be coming and STAYING in our house WHILE WE WERE GONE!! All of the sheets hadn't been changed, the floors probably need to be mopped, the upstairs (kid's) bathroom was probably not even fit to walk into, and a million other things ran through my head that weren't left "house guest ready". Not to mention, the uneasy feeling of someone staying in MY PERSONAL SPACE, sleeping in our bed, showering in my bathroom, and using my shit without me being there!! I am PISSED!

So anyway, we've had Dumbass push her ill behaving puppy on my dog sitter forh an unapproved doggy play date. Then my gracious father-in-law, being the ever accommodating host, offered our house to extended family and called us as an after-thought just to make sure it was okay.

I'm still angry.

~Ethel~

Sometimes When You Poke a Bear They Bite Back

There are a couple of kids in our neighborhood that Alfalfa doesn't always "gel" with. He generally doesn't meet a stranger, but there are a couple of kids that either like to play a little to rough, or they are just snotty, rude and make cutting remarks. These boys happen to be just slightly younger than Alfalfa, but it sure doesn't hurt any less.

This past Friday, the kids had gotten home from school and were running-a-muck in the street. The kids were running here and there, from backyard to backyard, and they were having a glorious time of it. While I was standing outside talking to a couple of the other mothers, Alfalfa rode his scooter past me (headed to another friend's backyard with a few boys), gave me a little smirk, and I just waved to him as he passed.

About five minutes later, one of Scarlett's BFF's walked up to me and said, "Alfalfa and Jake were yelling at each other in our backyard, and Alfalfa told Jake that he was going to kick his....(awkward pause)...and Alfalfa said the A-word". I pressed the little diva to know exactly what the A-word was that Alfalfa used, because let's be honest, the F-word to little kids means FART or some other silly word, and I wanted to make sure that we were in fact dealing with a legitimate swear word before raising an eyebrow. ....And of course we were. Alfalfa had told Jake, "I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!".

A few things.  First, I was horrified, shocked, and a little embarrassed....after all, my son's potty mouth was being exposed right there in front of MY PEERS. Second, I wanted to know what exactly that little turd Jake had done to prompt my perfect little angel to spew such profanities from his virgin lips. I mean, my children, would NEVER utter such an offense!! *cough cough*  Third, I was glad to hear that at least if he was gonna throw it out there, he was savvy enough to use the word in the right context and put some power behind it.

After I got Alfalfa home and we got down to the nitty-gritty of it all, he fully admitted that he told Jake he was gonna kick his ass. He also said that he was tired of Jake saying mean things to him. See there? HE WAS PROVOKED!

I scolded him a little, but didn't go overboard. I told him that he shouldn't use words like that and encouraged to find better words to put in his vocabulary that mean equally the same things, but won't land him in hot water with the other moms.

....and then I packed him up and sent him over to his friend's house for a sleepover.

~Ethel~

Toy Hoarding, Rough Play, and Daisy

We have a neighbor that drives me FUCKING NUTS.  Daisy can be as sweet as pie one minute, and as irritating as hemroids on a hot August day the next.  She's just that way.  She is the mother of two heathens that we will further refer to as "Frick" and "Frack".  Frick, the older child, is slightly more tollerable than his little bastard brother Frack, but they are both a pain in my neck.

Since they moved onto my turf our street, a case of excessive tutelary toy hoarding has surfaced.  Because she is so obsessive about their things not getting broken, she will have her boys take their things inside rather than keep them out for others to play with and risk damage to their belongings.  Daisy fusses and gets her panties in a bunch when her kids' toys get torn up, a Nerf gun bullet goes unaccounted for, or someone rides her boy's bikes a little too rough.  This isn't just a one sided deal, though!  We've ALL sacrificed toys for the good of group play, and most times the toys aren't broken intentionally.

News flash to Daisy...KIDS TEAR SHIT UP, and yours are not blameless!

Example #1:  Frick came out to play with my youngest's brand new RC car that he got for his birthday.  Frick decided that he wanted to KEEP the RC vehicle as his own.  Frick was told that he had to hand it back to my son, and then Frick proceeded to pull the antenna right out of the car, rendering it useless.  

Example:  Frack scratched Fred's precious foreign import vehicle because Frack's mother wasn't paying attention when he went into our garage, unattended, with a long stick of some sort and managed to scratch the car coming and going.  Grrrr.

Example #3:  Fred installed special valves on our outside water faucets because Frack will come over to our house, turn on the water, and LEAVE while the water is still running.  Now the little pecker has figured out how to maneuver the special valves, so I have to watch him when he's in our yard again...because his mother DOESN'T.  Shocker.

Example #4:  Frick plays full contact sports.  The fun part comes when their dumbass mom doesn't scold them for "playing" full contact with the other kids on the block who are not trained in such sports...  So the other kids end up getting hurt, and Daisy's brilliant response is...are you ready?...  "Well that's what he's been trained to do."  Holy.  Shit.

I wish that these kids had been blessed with two sensible parents.  Parents that had half the sense that God gave a billy goat.  Billy goats aren't that smart, so you get my drift.  And one of these days, I hope that they can stand back and see WHY the other parents on the street try their best to keep interaction as limited as possible with their family.

DUH.

~Ethel~

Fred's Mowing Diggs

Some people are such idiots. REALLY.

While I maintain an immaculate, pristinely kept home where the bed sheets are ironed, and there are decorative soaps in each of the bathrooms, Fred and Barnes handle all things "outdoors". The two of them are responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the yard. That's just the way it is.  And when they are tending to the yard, the guys always wear their finest. :) Fred wears old shorts, a grubby hat, some boots, and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off during the summer months. He won't be featured on GQ, but he dresses for WORK. Nuttin' but the finest, folks!

Several of our neighbors also do their own yard work.  One of our particular favorites is a clown who has a riding lawnmower and wears a pair of those headphones that the gun range lug nuts use to protect their ears from the loud noises.  The houses in our area are built on about 1/3 of an acre, so it's totally manageable with a regular mower.  Oh yeah, and he frequently sports his Revenge of the Nerds physique...SHIRTLESS!

I got a phone call from this particular neighbor's wife one Saturday morning.  She called giggling...

NW:  Hey Ethel, I was just looking out my front window and saw Fred out there mowing the yard.  (chuckling)

Me:  Oh yeah!?

NW:  Have you ever seen that show "Swamp People"?  (more laughing)

Me:  Yeah, we love it!

NW:  Well I was just thinking that Fred looks like he could be on that show!  He's dressed about like they do on the show.  You know, with the hat, boots, and the pretty shirt?

Me:  He really dresses up, doesn't he?

NW:  Yep!  I just thought it was too funny, so I thought I would give you a buzz and have a laugh.  :)

Me:  Thanks.  He doesn't exactly mow shirtless, but he does have his own brand of class, right?

....we chatted awkwardly for about 30 seconds longer and then said "good-bye" after a few niceties.

How nervy that this wife-of-a-lug-nut would call me just to say that my husband resembles the kind of knuckle draggers that are featured on "Swamp People"?  Those people need SUBTITLES, bitch!

I couldn't even mask my irritation.  We haven't really run into eachother since that fateful morning.  Peculiar!?  I think not.  She should rethink her angle before punching my digits into her phone next time.  After all, she's married to the dude who mows his 100 sq ft on a RIDER!  Maybe this is his idea of "a warm up" before he starts shopping in "The Scooter Store" catalog?  MAYBE?  Hmm?  Hmm?  Idiot.

~Ethel~