The End Is Near

My sweet, sweet, two-and-a-half days of leisure are nearing their end. HH and the #1 son will be returning from their bowling trip in about 30 minutes. I'm not exactly waiting at the front door with balloons and confetti. It was nice while it lasted. The Pony is low-maintenance. He doesn't eat much real food, which perhaps explains the 'Skeletor' physique. As long as I pour out a bowl of Froot Loops (yes, that is the official Kellogg spelling) like so much Meow Mix for the cats, he is satisfied.

Now I will have to wait on the other two hand and foot. They are basically incompetent in even the most simple tasks about the Mansion. D.B. Cooper could have tossed his loot onto the kitchen table, and it would have been safe for nigh on 35 years now. But try to hide some chocolate Hostess Donettes that are meant for The Pony's nutritional breakfast, and they will ferret them out like a championship Bloodhound Gang. Go figure.

Six more weeks of school, people. Six more Mondays. Six more parking lot duties. The school year is almost over, you know.

HH ripped the cover off Poolio last week. The 90-mph winds pulled the cover half off, so HH spent an hour with a LONG dipstick net thingy hoisting wet leaves off the silver circle, then pulled off the whole thing. Guess this means he will have to actually put fresh water in Poolio this year, instead of merely seasoning the butt-water soup of the past two seasons.

The school banquet season is in high gear. The #1 son says he has to go to the Academic Banquet and the Athletic Banquet. Surely they could count the Academic Team as scholars instead of athletes, and leave us one banquet short of a headache. But no. I told him his dad could take him. We all went last year, but I do not feel like paying $8 per ticket for food catered by the Home Ec teacher. Shh...don't let her hear that. She is all about the FACS. I would be scared if she wasn't in a wheelchair. Seems a horse rolled on her and hurt her leg. I suppose it's better than that year she fell off her rolly chair and broke her butt, and the ambulance had to come haul her away. Karma, baby. That's what you get for usurping my rightful parking spot.

I'm tired of writing. You know what that means.
The end is here.