Holiday Schmoliday

Since it is a holiday weekend and nobody will be reading, and because I have no life, I have decided to humor myself and write about what I want to write about for the next three days. Not that I don't always write about what I want...but sometimes I actually TRY to be interesting. This is not one of those times. Nor is tomorrow. And probably not Monday.

We celebrated the first day out of school for the summer by going to see the new Indiana Jones movie. At least The Pony and I did. HH has to work the night shift for 12.5 hours for some unknown reason, and the #1 son wanted to spend the day at his grandma's house. I'm not sure of the reason for that one, either. I spent 30 minutes there yesterday, between my blood-letting lab appointment and graduation festivities, and I do not want to go back soon. Not that I don't love my mama. I do. But she...how you say...has no conception of a moderate home temperature. It was 78 freakin' degrees in her house, people! And only 73 degrees outside. I swear, that woman must get her utilities from HellUE. But only in the summer. During the winter, she connects with Witch'sT. Because during the winter, you are lucky to catch her home at 60 degrees. I give up. She is a dime-pincher. I say that, because the #1 son dropped a dime, and was going to leave it, and his grandma went to the ends of the earth to snap that little silver fellow.

The movie was quite enjoyable. Most people came in before it started. This was helped by the fact that there were 20 minutes of previews, but I won't complain. Did you know that you should get in the concession line by the actual popcorn popper? Because at the other end, they have a glass-doored cabinet thingy that they get their popcorn from. I have seen them carry it from the popper over there. That means that it is not as fresh. Besides that, it is broken and crumbly, because they scoop it up with a large size cardboard tub, and that breaks those tender puffy kernels. You should always get in the line with the popper. And don't let them talk you into the large soda combo for just 15 cents more. Those large sodas are too big. They are hard to pick up, and your ice will melt, and if you have a child, that is WAAAYYYYY too much soda, and the child will have to go to the bathroom several times. Then you will miss part of the movie going back for fresh popcorn and unwatery soda, and more when the child asks for a detailed re-enactment of what he missed while peeing. Just sayin...I was wise this time. I learned my lesson a couple years ago.

Now, here's the 'Smell my hand' saga from a couple days ago. There I was, sitting on the front row at the awards assembly, and Mr. H said, out of the blue, "Smell my hand." He even stuck it right in my face for my convenience. Because that's how he rolls. I said, "Uh, I don't think so." He insisted. "Smell it." He moved it closer. I did the Jerry Seinfeld bite of pie/bite of Poppy's pizza closed-mouth headshake. Mr. H said, "I broke the sprayer off my Glade air freshener, and it got all over my hand." He put his hand right up to my nose. I sniffed. Floral. "You smell like an old lady," I complimented him. MathCrony was sitting on his other side. She piped up about something a little later in the assembly, and I leaned around Mr. H and told MathCrony, "Smell his hand." She did, too. Because that's how she rolls.

Tomorrow, I am feeling political. That's a warning. Let the reader beware.