Friday, March 07, 2008

Let Me Count The Ways

So many scintillating happenings in my life. Oh, where to begin?

1) SOFTBALL PRACTICE. Softball practice lasts something like 3,749 hours each Monday, thereby requiring feats of unimaginable culinary speed to ensure a proper dinner on the table. The definition of "proper" becomes more flexible with each passing week.

2) BEAR VALLEY, 2008. This will forever be remembered as the year when—thanks to a chilly, so chilly chilly wind—I overcame my fear of hats and kept my noggin cozy in the snow. My hat (which was, in fact, borrowed from a friend who left the mountain early to help with the Obama campaign in Texas) had a tassle. And while a tassle is NOT a pompom, I still strongly believe I deserve a pat on the back. Or the head.

3) TALENT SHOW. Much to my considerable confusion, all three of my children insist on taking part in their school talent show later this month. As we all know by now, I have an irrational horror of performing karaoke, which makes their gumption all the more mysterious to me. But then again, they are also their father's children, so...

4) THE SNACK SHACK INCIDENT. You no doubt recall my distaste at being forced, in accordance with the rigid laws of youth team sports, to work a 3-hour shift at "The Snack Shack" each softball season. Said shift took place today and, I'm happy to report, I nearly burned the entire place to the ground while working the grill. Happy why? Happy because I doubt I'll ever be asked to work a 3-hour shift at "The Snack Shack" again.

5) THE RED RIBBON BAKESHOP INCIDENT. Imagine my shame when the man behind the counter spoke to me in Pilipino and I had to face the fact, once again, that I do not understand enough of my father's native language to even stumble through a rudimentary retail transaction. Imagine my DOUBLE shame when I realized the man behind the counter was NOT actually speaking to me in Pilipino; he was only asking me—in English—whether I wanted one red ribbon or two. *hangs head*

Told you: s-c-i-n-t-i-l-l-a-t-i-n-g.

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