Over the weekend I created a lot of unneccessary work for myself, simply because I am a pig-headed, overly-contrary, pain in the ass.
Are we clear?
Good.
You see, the weather was nice for the first time in, what felt like, a hundred years. So, my wife was making me....Yes, MAKING ME.....do yard work. This involved buying several thousand bags of something called "mulch," and then dumping it into my various planters and flower beds. I don't know what "mulch" is. When it's in a bag, it looks like a bag filled with a chopped up tree. Unless, of course, you buy colored "mulch," which we did. In this case, when it's in a bag, it looks like a bag filled with a tree that you chopped up, and then poured color all over it. Just like God intended it.
Anyway, we bought ALL the black colored "mulch" in the greater South Jersey area. Then we (and by "we" I mean "I") put it onto a flatbed cart, at our local Home Depot. This was neccessary for two reasons. First, because there were several thousand bags, and I would not have been able to carry all of them. Second, because I needed to be able to knock over as many displays of hornet spray as possible, and I would not have been able to do that if I had not had a convenient, flatbed cart, that lacked the ability to turn.
Still with me?
Good.
Now, our OTHER major problem, aside from our current "mulch" not being black, was that there were several bare spots, in our backyard grass. This is due mainly to the fact that I have retired racing greyhounds, as pets, and when we got them we neglected to tell them that they were, in fact, retired. So, they race around my pool, and tear up the grass. Greyhounds, you see, are evil dogs, from the depths of Hell, who refuse to allow me to have a green lawn. One more small victory for Satan.
While we were at Home Depot stumbled upon a small stack of "sod." I didn't REALLY know what "sod" was, either. I suppose that it can best be described as "grass carpet." Anyway, I didn't really know what it was, and didn't really know what to do with it. But, it SEEMED a lot easier than buying a bunch of grass seed, letting the birds eat it, and NOT having grass where I wanted it.
Me: Let's buy some sod.
My Wife: No.
Me: I think it would be easier than buying seed.
My Wife: No.
Me: It's cheap.
My Wife: NO!!
Me: But, I wanna try it.
My Wife: Do you know how to put it down?
Me: No. But, how hard could it be?
My Wife: I wish I had married a man.
Me: I think I could do it.
My Wife: I doubt it. Let's go over here. There are a couple of displays you haven't knocked over yet. Then, maybe we can get ice cream.
Me: Ice cre......Wait......No. I wanna get sod.
My Wife: No.
Me: I'm going to hold my breath.....
As this was going on, an older woman walked up who looked as though she was permanently sucking on a very sour lemon. She started glaring at me. She didn't say anything, at first. She just glared.
Woman: My husband is coming.
Me: Oh....uh....Good. I was wondering.
Woman: We are thinking of buying this sod.
Me: Oh, yeah? So are WE!!
My Wife: No we aren't.
Me: Stop it.
Woman: Well, I'm afraid you can't buy it.
Me: Can't?
My Wife: Oh, no.....
Woman: Yes. You cannot. We are thinking about buying it, so you can't.
Me: Can't?
My Wife: Please don't......
Woman: Once my husband gets here, he will explain it to you.
Me: So, your husband will come here, and tell me that I "CAN'T" buy this very sod, which the people at Home Depot have marked as being for sale?
Woman: Yes. He will be very upset, if you buy any of it, so I'm afraid that I can't let you.
Me: Can't "LET" me!?
Woman: No.
My Wife: Here we go........
Me: So, your husband is the Prime Minister of Sod, here in South Jersey, huh? And he has, by royal order, decided that I, me, Casey Bartholomew, "CAN'T" buy this particular sod, huh?
My Wife: Please....Just....Stop.
Woman: I don't care for your tone, sir. He will be here, at any moment, and he will be VERY upset if you purchase this sod.
Me (starting to pick up pieces of sod): Well, ma'am, you just tell your husband that, if we wishes to discuss it with me, I'll be right over there at the cash register, paying for MY SOD!!!!
My Wife: I'm taking the kids to the car. Congratulations on winning your little war.
Me: Thank you.
Then, since I could not see around my huge, flatbed cart, I knocked over a display of grass seed.
Ironic.
After paying, I got glared at by the woman who was walking by with some guy I assumed to be her husband.
That's right! I thought. Keep walking, pal!!
Actually, I should have asked him to help me get it out to my car. It was heavy. Also, I probably could have asked him what to do with the stuff, once I got it home.
First, it was gross. It had worms in it. Which means that I was putting worms IN MY CAR!!!!
It was, to use a technical term, "Icky."
But, I put it in my car, with my colored pieces of "mulch" wood, and drove it home. Then, I had to unload 15 rolls of it, and carry the worm-filled stuff into the back yard. I could have used more. But, you see, I only wanted to buy SOME of the sod. That way there would still be some left, but not nearly enough for the evil, sour-faced woman, and her husband to buy.
It was a hollow victory. But, at this point, I'll take what I can get.
So, I took the stuff into the backyard, and looked at it. I didn't know what to do with it. I could have gone in, and looked online. But, I had worm dirt all over me, and my wife wouldn't let me in.
I picked up a piece, walked over to a bald spot int he grass, and rolled it out.
Done.
Then, I picked up another one, and rolled it out.
I was developing a rythmn, now.
I did this with all 15 pieces. Rolled them out, over empty patches, and then stared at it.
There HAD to be more.
Did I need to nail it down, maybe?
It can't just lay there, can it?
I could see the worms.......Gross.
So, I turned the hose on, and watched it. It didn't do anything, but I watched it anyway. I really need to get a life, of some kind.
My wife finally let me back in, and I was able to determine that I needed to water it, often, for two weeks. By then, I should know. I also read something that said that, in my current situation, it would have been better to "over seed."
NOW they tell me.
Of course, even that didn't allow for the evil, sour-faced, demon woman who PRACTICALLY DARED ME TO BUY ALL THAT SOD.
So, really, it will all be her fault, if it doesn't work.
At least, that's what I told my wife.....Who has since informed me that I am no longer allowed to go to Home Depot.
Casey
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Video Blog....Coolness.
Okay, this link SHOULD take you to my video blog. It could also take you to a website run by a secret, mind control agency hell bent on taking over the world. Either way, your life will probably be ruined once you check it out.
Enjoy....ish.
http://gallery.me.com/kficasey/100000
Enjoy....ish.
http://gallery.me.com/kficasey/100000
Monday, April 13, 2009
Let's Do The Hannah, Again....
“Hannah Montana” is the new “Rocky Horror.”
I know of which I speak.
So, that means that every guy who went to midnight showings of “Rocky Horror,” dressed in black lingerie and a curly black wig, is going to have to alter their lifestyle, a bit. Now, you’re going to have to pick up a blonde wig, blue jeans, and a glittery jacket. On the plus side, as if NOT having to look at large men in women’s underwear is not enough of a plus, you will get more sleep. I’m just assuming that midnight showings of “Rocky Horror,” will be replaced by noontime showings of “Hannah Montana.”
So, you know…..Good luck with that.
I know this, because I was one of the “lucky” parents who got to go see the new “Hannah Montana” movie. I got to spend $17, on two tickets, and $32 on 2 hotdogs, a medium popcorn, a box of Junior Mints, a small tray of soft “pretzel bites,” a bottle of water, and a medium diet coke. $49 on a trip to the movies, with my little girl. On the plus side, though, I did get a free pack of “Hannah Montana” trading cards. So, you know, there’s THAT. But, they did try and cheat me out of those.
Ticket Seller: I’m supposed to give a pack of these with every ticket. But, you don’t want one, do you?
Me: I just spent $17, on two tickets, to a “G” rated movie……GIVE….ME….MY….HANNAH…MONTANA…TRADING…CARDS…RIGHT…FREAKING…NOW!!!
Ticket Seller: Whatever, dude.
Me (smiling): Thank you.
As we walked into the theater, there were several young lads, in gang attire, using the colorful kind of “street” language that I would just as soon my 9 year old daughter NOT hear. THEY were all going to see “Fast & Furious,” I suppose. When I shot them dirty looks, so that they wouldn’t use bad language in front of my little girl, they kinda laughed at me. I guess my “Kermit The Frog” hat just doesn’t inspire fear in the hearts of 15 year olds, wearing White Sox hats, turned to the side. Though, I still think I look cooler. I don’t wear MY hat sideways. I don’t care if it has a frog on it, or not.
Anyway, we got into the theater. I have to say something, here, about going to see a kids movie. This may shock AND surprise you. But, when you go to see a kids movie, there are better-than-average odds that you are going to see a large number of kids there. You expect this. Also, when there are a lot of kids in one place, don’t be surprised if they can’t all be totally silent. That’s okay. They’re kids. It’s our job, as parents, to teach them to shut their pie holes, at a movie. So, I was more than a little surprised when the bimbo in front of me had her cell phone go off. Then, I was even more shocked when she answered it, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A PIVOTAL PLOT POINT!!! (Miley was late for Lilly's sweet 16, and had to show up as Hannah, because she didn't have time to change, and ended up taking all the attention away from Lilly......So, you can see why I was so upset about this.)
So, in order to teach this woman a lesson, I was forced.....FORCED I TELL YOU....to kick the back of her chair.....hard.......twice.......Which was when she spun around in her chair, and glared at me.
"I am SOOOOOO sorry," I said. " I was just so excited about the movie, and couldn't stop my leg."
It got loud in the theater, but I'm pretty sure she called me an a*@hole. It's okay, though, because she got off her phone, which is what I wanted in the first place. So, I win. Yay, me. Now, I could watch "Hannah Montana" in peace......
Wait.....Did I really "win" that one?
Hmmm.....Lemme get back to you on that.
Anyway, at one point during the movie, Miley and her family go to a country dance. Miley was encouraged to get up and sing. She does so, reluctantly, saying that she's going to "add a little hip-hop." This makes perfect sense, for two reasons: 1) Because EVERYONE knows that Hannah Montana is the textbook definition of "ghetto," and 2) Because when you get a bunch of farmers around, at a country music show, they want NOTHING MORE than to hear a little hip-hop.
Word to your mother.
So, Miley gets up and starts sining the "hip-hop" song, which the local country band seems to know, and starts to do some sort of pop/hip-hop/Disney-inspired/country line dancing song.
Okay, I thought. It's a G-rated, Disney movie. I wasn't expecting "Citizen Kane," or anything.
Then, we had our "Rocky Horror" moment.
As soon as Miley started singing her country/rap fusion, something like 20-30 girls ran up to the front of the theater, and started doing the dance that she was "rapping" about.
HOLY CRAP!!! ARE THEY TRYING TO DISNEY-FY EVERYTHING!?!!
Now, I'm not a "Rocky Horror" fan. I mean, I'm fine with it. I've been to it. I found it odd. But, I never really got into it. In fact, when I went to see it I was 16 and had never heard of it. A bunch of my friends said that they wanted to, "Go see a midnight showing of 'Rocky,'" and wanted to know if I wanted to come.
"Sure," I said. "I still think that's the best of the 'Rocky'" movies."
See, I was a tad bit stupid, when I was 16.
So, you can imagine my shock when we showed up, and there were men dressed in women's underwear. Having never worn women's underwear, I found this odd. I also thought it was odd when I got searched before going in.
Theater Guy: Open your coat.
Me: Why?
Theater Guy: I need to search you.
Me: For what?
Theater Guy: Toast.
Me: Toast?
Theater Guy: Yeah, toast.
Me: Of course.
Later on, when I got hit in the back of the head with a piece of toast that someone had managed to sneak through the TSA-style security, I understood the need for the shakedown. Of course, one of the big moments in "Rocky Horror" (not, I repeat NOT, "Rocky") is when everyone jumps up to do "The Time Warp." I thought that was funny, and I appreciated it. I just wasn't expecting that type of thing at a Friday evening performance of "Hannah Montana."
Clearly, the Disney corporation is attempting to capture that type of lighting in a bottle, with the "Hannah" franchise. It all makes perfect sense, when you consider the group dancing scene.
Do you need MORE evidence that Disney is trying to turn "Hannah Montana" into the new "Rocky Horror?"
I thought you might.
I cite one Mr. Barry Bostwick.
Not only is he one of the main characters in "Rocky Horror." BUT, he is also the bad guy in "Hannah Montana."
SHOCKING!!!!
AND, he was sex with a male, transvestite in BOTH movies!!!!
Okay, I made that last part up.........Or, did I? They don't actually get into his sex life, in "Hannah." He may, VERY WELL, be having sex with male transvestites, and we just didn't see it.
So, there!!!
Now, go turn in your black lingerie, you men out there, and turn them in for your OFFICIAL "Hannah" wig..........But, keep the toast. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I always say.
Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go put my "Hannah Montana" trading cards up on ebay. I'm hoping to make enough money to buy that 90 minutes of my life back.
Casey
I know of which I speak.
So, that means that every guy who went to midnight showings of “Rocky Horror,” dressed in black lingerie and a curly black wig, is going to have to alter their lifestyle, a bit. Now, you’re going to have to pick up a blonde wig, blue jeans, and a glittery jacket. On the plus side, as if NOT having to look at large men in women’s underwear is not enough of a plus, you will get more sleep. I’m just assuming that midnight showings of “Rocky Horror,” will be replaced by noontime showings of “Hannah Montana.”
So, you know…..Good luck with that.
I know this, because I was one of the “lucky” parents who got to go see the new “Hannah Montana” movie. I got to spend $17, on two tickets, and $32 on 2 hotdogs, a medium popcorn, a box of Junior Mints, a small tray of soft “pretzel bites,” a bottle of water, and a medium diet coke. $49 on a trip to the movies, with my little girl. On the plus side, though, I did get a free pack of “Hannah Montana” trading cards. So, you know, there’s THAT. But, they did try and cheat me out of those.
Ticket Seller: I’m supposed to give a pack of these with every ticket. But, you don’t want one, do you?
Me: I just spent $17, on two tickets, to a “G” rated movie……GIVE….ME….MY….HANNAH…MONTANA…TRADING…CARDS…RIGHT…FREAKING…NOW!!!
Ticket Seller: Whatever, dude.
Me (smiling): Thank you.
As we walked into the theater, there were several young lads, in gang attire, using the colorful kind of “street” language that I would just as soon my 9 year old daughter NOT hear. THEY were all going to see “Fast & Furious,” I suppose. When I shot them dirty looks, so that they wouldn’t use bad language in front of my little girl, they kinda laughed at me. I guess my “Kermit The Frog” hat just doesn’t inspire fear in the hearts of 15 year olds, wearing White Sox hats, turned to the side. Though, I still think I look cooler. I don’t wear MY hat sideways. I don’t care if it has a frog on it, or not.
Anyway, we got into the theater. I have to say something, here, about going to see a kids movie. This may shock AND surprise you. But, when you go to see a kids movie, there are better-than-average odds that you are going to see a large number of kids there. You expect this. Also, when there are a lot of kids in one place, don’t be surprised if they can’t all be totally silent. That’s okay. They’re kids. It’s our job, as parents, to teach them to shut their pie holes, at a movie. So, I was more than a little surprised when the bimbo in front of me had her cell phone go off. Then, I was even more shocked when she answered it, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A PIVOTAL PLOT POINT!!! (Miley was late for Lilly's sweet 16, and had to show up as Hannah, because she didn't have time to change, and ended up taking all the attention away from Lilly......So, you can see why I was so upset about this.)
So, in order to teach this woman a lesson, I was forced.....FORCED I TELL YOU....to kick the back of her chair.....hard.......twice.......Which was when she spun around in her chair, and glared at me.
"I am SOOOOOO sorry," I said. " I was just so excited about the movie, and couldn't stop my leg."
It got loud in the theater, but I'm pretty sure she called me an a*@hole. It's okay, though, because she got off her phone, which is what I wanted in the first place. So, I win. Yay, me. Now, I could watch "Hannah Montana" in peace......
Wait.....Did I really "win" that one?
Hmmm.....Lemme get back to you on that.
Anyway, at one point during the movie, Miley and her family go to a country dance. Miley was encouraged to get up and sing. She does so, reluctantly, saying that she's going to "add a little hip-hop." This makes perfect sense, for two reasons: 1) Because EVERYONE knows that Hannah Montana is the textbook definition of "ghetto," and 2) Because when you get a bunch of farmers around, at a country music show, they want NOTHING MORE than to hear a little hip-hop.
Word to your mother.
So, Miley gets up and starts sining the "hip-hop" song, which the local country band seems to know, and starts to do some sort of pop/hip-hop/Disney-inspired/country line dancing song.
Okay, I thought. It's a G-rated, Disney movie. I wasn't expecting "Citizen Kane," or anything.
Then, we had our "Rocky Horror" moment.
As soon as Miley started singing her country/rap fusion, something like 20-30 girls ran up to the front of the theater, and started doing the dance that she was "rapping" about.
HOLY CRAP!!! ARE THEY TRYING TO DISNEY-FY EVERYTHING!?!!
Now, I'm not a "Rocky Horror" fan. I mean, I'm fine with it. I've been to it. I found it odd. But, I never really got into it. In fact, when I went to see it I was 16 and had never heard of it. A bunch of my friends said that they wanted to, "Go see a midnight showing of 'Rocky,'" and wanted to know if I wanted to come.
"Sure," I said. "I still think that's the best of the 'Rocky'" movies."
See, I was a tad bit stupid, when I was 16.
So, you can imagine my shock when we showed up, and there were men dressed in women's underwear. Having never worn women's underwear, I found this odd. I also thought it was odd when I got searched before going in.
Theater Guy: Open your coat.
Me: Why?
Theater Guy: I need to search you.
Me: For what?
Theater Guy: Toast.
Me: Toast?
Theater Guy: Yeah, toast.
Me: Of course.
Later on, when I got hit in the back of the head with a piece of toast that someone had managed to sneak through the TSA-style security, I understood the need for the shakedown. Of course, one of the big moments in "Rocky Horror" (not, I repeat NOT, "Rocky") is when everyone jumps up to do "The Time Warp." I thought that was funny, and I appreciated it. I just wasn't expecting that type of thing at a Friday evening performance of "Hannah Montana."
Clearly, the Disney corporation is attempting to capture that type of lighting in a bottle, with the "Hannah" franchise. It all makes perfect sense, when you consider the group dancing scene.
Do you need MORE evidence that Disney is trying to turn "Hannah Montana" into the new "Rocky Horror?"
I thought you might.
I cite one Mr. Barry Bostwick.
Not only is he one of the main characters in "Rocky Horror." BUT, he is also the bad guy in "Hannah Montana."
SHOCKING!!!!
AND, he was sex with a male, transvestite in BOTH movies!!!!
Okay, I made that last part up.........Or, did I? They don't actually get into his sex life, in "Hannah." He may, VERY WELL, be having sex with male transvestites, and we just didn't see it.
So, there!!!
Now, go turn in your black lingerie, you men out there, and turn them in for your OFFICIAL "Hannah" wig..........But, keep the toast. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I always say.
Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go put my "Hannah Montana" trading cards up on ebay. I'm hoping to make enough money to buy that 90 minutes of my life back.
Casey
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Thank Satan For Little Girls
I have been shot at.
I have SCUBA dived with sharks.
I was in a car, once, that burst into flame.
I was trapped in Los Angeles, in 1992, during the riots. Buildings were being burned down around me, small arms fire was going off, and the National Guard had to take up a position protecting the radio station that I was trapped in.
Nothing.....
NOTHING has caused me more stress than the slumber party that my daughter threw, at my house, Saturday night.
6 innocent LOOKING 9 year old girls descended upon my house, starting at 6 pm. They smiled, and kissed their parents goodbye. I thought to myself, This is going to be cute. This is a sweet group of girls. This was a good idea.
I could not have been MORE wrong.
When the last parent dropped off the last girl, and the door shut, I turned to face the little angels. But, the girls had vanished. They were replaced by 6 of the most horrible demons, from the darkest depths of Hell. Their innocent little eyes had been replaced by orbs of flame, which were now shooting directly into my skull. I went from wondering what fun games I was going to play with these precious little snowflakes, to wondering if I was going to live to see another day.
It all started off innocently enough. We had decided to feed the girls pizza. Harmless, right? Well, it should have been. A smart person would have used a coupon, and ordered pizza from one of the approximately 7,236 pizza places that are within a mile of my house.
Not me.
Nope.
We were going to MAKE pizza. We bought pizza dough, and grated cheese, and mushrooms, and sauce, and pepperoni, and olives, and onions. It was, dare I say, GENIUS!?!!! One would think. But, one also needs to have his head examined.
Me: Did everyone roll their dough?
Girl #1: Mine's not round.
Me: That's okay. It doesn't have to be round.
Girl #1: HERS is round.
Me: Oh...Uh...Okay. Let me see if I can get yours round.
Girl #2: I'm making mine square.
Girl #3: I'm making mine shaped like a heart.
Girl #4: I'm making mine like an "S," 'cuz that's what my name starts with.
Girl #5: I don't want a round one, anymore. Can I do mine over?
Me: Well, yeah. I guess so.
Girl #5: Good. I want mine shaped like a horse.
Me: A horse? Do you know how to do that?
Girl #5: I'm gonna let YOU do it.
Me: You're gonna let ME do it?
Girl #2: Will you make my square one, too?
Girl #3: And my heart one?
Girl #4: And make my "S," too.
Girl #1: I don't want a round one, anymore. I want a kitty.
Me: Uhhhhhhhhhh....................I'll..........Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........I don't.........
Girl #6: I don't like pizza.
Me: Uh...Okay. Do you want a grilled cheese?
Girl #6: Yes, please.
Me: Okay. That'll be easy.
Girl #6: Shaped like a puppy.
Me: Shaped like a puppy?
Girl #6: Yes, please.
Me: I don't.........uhhhhh.......
Then, they all ran downstairs to scream, in unison. Apparently, they were on some sort of VERY tight schedule, and if they didn't get downstairs and scream, NOW, it was going to throw the entire evening off. So, they got to their screaming, while I attempted to turn common, everyday, household food items into a bizarre menagerie of animals and geometric shapes, that were to be eaten.....Though only halfway. Something in the 9 year old DNA does not allow them to finish their entire meal. They can, however, eat endless amounts of junk food. Amounts that would cause me, a 39 year old man, to puke.
And speaking of junk food, I would like to insist that ALL parents make sure that their children know whether or not they are allergic to peanuts, and thusly inform the moronic parents who decided to have a slumber party. You see, we made a variety of different cookies for the girls to snack on. One of the types was peanut butter cookies. For those of you who don't know, one of the main ingredients in peanut butter cookies is............Get Ready..........PEANUT BUTTER. Wait, it gets better.......One of the main ingredients of peanut butter is...........Anybody?.............PEANUTS. So, someone who is allergic to peanuts, would be allergic to peanut butter.
Girl: Mr. Bartholomew?
Me: Yes.
Girl: I ate a peanut butter cookie.
Me: That's okay. You can eat anything you want.
Girl: Well, there might be a problem.
Me: What's that?
Girl: Well, I MIGHT be allergic to peanuts.
Me: Well, that's okay........Wait.........What?
Girl: I might be allergic to peanuts.
Me: Uhhhhhhhhh..........
Girl: Yeah.
Me: Uhhhhhhh....Are you feeling okay?
Girl: I don't know.
Me: Uhhhhhhhh....Okay.....I can deal with this......Do you have any medication with you?
Girl: No.
Me: YOU LEFT YOUR MEDICATION AT HOME!?!!!.....Uhhhh....Okay....I'm gonna call your parents.
Girl: I don't wanna call my parents.
Me: Sweetie, we have to get your medication.....Don't touch any more cookies, okay?
Girl: I don't have any medication.
Me: I know. I'm going to call your mommy, and have her bring it. Just stay away from the cookies.
Girl: My mommy doesn't have it.
Me: Well.......WHO DOES!?!!
Girl: I don't take any medication.
Me: Well......uhhhhh......I thought you were allergic to peanuts?
Girl: Well, I THINK I might be.
Me: You think.
Girl: I saw it on TV.
Me: You saw it on TV.
Girl: Yes.
Me: But, you're not allergic.
Girl: No. But, I could be.
Me (closing my eyes): Okay.
Girl: Can I have another cookie?
Me (rubbing my temples): Yes. Just....take the bag down into the basement.
Girl: Thank you.
Me: Uh-huh.
I was also expecting these 9 year old girls to want to play some games. I'm thinking things like "Pin The Tail On The Donkey," or "Twister," or "Hide and Seek." That's the kind of stuff I did when I was 9. Of course, I also fashioned a parachute out of a bed sheet, and jumped off the roof. But, that's me. PLUS, I was a boy. Boys are dumb, and we do dumb things like jumping off the roof. I fully expect to find my son's injured body, splayed out on my front lawn, after HE makes HIS bed sheet parachute. He is, after all, MY son.
Truth be told, after the NEXT thing they did, I would have happily provided them all with sheets to jump off the roof with.
I'm not 100% certain how it all started. There was talk of boys. A LOT of talk about boys. Boys that were cute. Boys that they liked. Boys that they didn't LIKE, but that they would kiss anyway ( I know.....That last one kinda threw me, too.)
Then, there was whispering. When a group of boys gets together, and whispers, we are usually plotting some form of violence against ourselves, or others. But, boys are stupid, and they always, ALWAYS give themselves away. Again, I would have preferred violence to what came next.
They whispered.
They giggled.
They ALL looked over at me.
Then, they giggled some more, and headed back down to the basement.
So, after a while, I went down to see what they were doing. Clearly they were up to SOMETHING. As a responsible parent, it was my job to find out what it was. And, also as a responsible parent, it was my job to make sure that it, whatever "it" was, was stopped. As far as I knew, the fate of the free world depended on it.
I went downstairs, and found the girls happily drawing pictures of faces. No problem, right? Art. Girls like art. Girls are crafty. They like to do such things. NOW this was going the way that I imagined it would. We'd had pizza, and the girls were happily drawing pictures in the basement. Does it get better than that? I think not. So, I went back upstairs to watch "The Gilmore Girls." (Yes, I like "The Gilmore Girls." I like Lauren Graham. Deal with it.)
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet like they have in the movies, before the Evil Mutated Death Shark swims up, grabs you by the legs, and pulls you into the murky depths of the ocean, to eat you.
WHAT THEY HELL WERE THESE GIRLS UP TO!!?!!!!
So, I snuck downstairs.....Yes....SNUCK......SNEAKED?.....Either way. I quietly went downstairs.
When I got to the door, I heard giggling. Squealing, even.
Stealthly, I made my way down the stairs.
The squealing conintued.
Then, I made my way around the corner, to the horrible sight.
The girls had attatched the various faces they had drawn onto pillows, stuffed animals, AND a punching bag...........And, they were kissing them.......KISSING THEM!!!!!!!
"Uhhhhhhh.............STOP THAT!!!" I said.
They squealed.
The laughed.
They all ran upstairs.
Leaving me to stare at the crayon induced, make-out partners that were now scattered around my basement.
At this point, it was close to midnight. I had been trying to watch "The Gilmore Girls" for 3 hours (again, deal with it), and I was getting annoyed.
The girls were busy trying to play "Rock Band" on our Wii. So, as you can imagine, it was very peaceful in my house. A few moments later, they all filed into the living room, and wanted to watch TV. I made them all put their pajamas on, and spread their sleeping bags out on the floor.
I was beaten.
They had won.
"The Gilmore Girls" would not be completed, this evening.
I told them that the only rule was that they were not to set foot outside the house. They first one who set foot outside the house, I was going to kill. They screamed, and laughed. This turned out to be a mistake, because for the next two hours they took turns opening the front door, slamming it, and then squealing their way back into the living room while I was TRYING to sleep, upstairs.
The last noise I heard was at about 3am, and I drifted off to a none-too-peaceful sleep.
At 7am I woke up, and found the girls awake, and whispering. I was afraid to sit down, because I was worried that there would be slobber all over my couch cushions due to some impromptu make-out session, with more cartoon faces. YUCK!!
Me: We're going to make pancakes, this morning.
Girl #1: I want chocolate chip.
Me: Chocolate chip? I don't think we have any chocolate.....
Girl #2: I want blueberry,
Me: Uhhhhhhh.....blue......
Girl #3: I want strawberry.
Me: Guys, can we just decide on one.....
Girl #4: Can you put apples on mine?
Me (closing eyes): You know, guys, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and I was wondering....
Girl #5: Do you have whipped cream?
Me: (sigh)....I don't think so.
Girl #6: Mr. Bartholomew?
Me: Yes.
Girl #6: I have a problem with pancakes.
Me: You have a problem with pancakes.
Girl #6: Yes.
Me: Okay.
Girl #3: Can you make them into shapes, again?
Me: Uhhhhhhhh.......DONUTS!!!!! WHO WANTS DONUTS!?!!
Girls (in unison): YEAH!!!!!
Me: Okay. I'll go get a dozen donuts. I'll be back......Maybe.
So, I went to the donut shop, and was going to buy a dozen donuts. I realized, of course, that if I only bought a dozen, someone was going to be sad/feel left out/be allergic to/have a problem with whatever kind I bought.......So, I bought 2 dozen. That's right, 24 donuts to feed 6 little girls.
Good thing.
They ALL took 1 or 2 bites of 3-4 different donuts, and left the sad little donut corpses on my kitchen table. When they were done, there were no donuts left. But, there was NOT ONE SINGLE COMPLETELY EATEN DONUT OUT OF THE ENTIRE 24 THAT I BOUGHT!!!! NOT ONE!!!!
At 10am, not a moment too soon, their parents started showing up, and openly wondered why the girls looked booth exauhsted, and wired, at the same time.
I wanted to punch them ALL in the mouth.
It is THE LAST slumber party that will EVER take place, in my house. It is officially somebody else's turn.
I learned that 6 against 1 are odds too great for ANY man, even if the 6 are a bunch of 9 year old girls.
I learned that women not being able to make a decision starts at a very young age.
I learned that I need to be alone when I watch "The Gilmore Girls." Or, it's not going to happen.
And, I learned that several of the girls are VERY into Aiden and Garrett. Andrew, however, is "such an Andrew."
I don't know what that means, but I don't think it's good. Sorry, Andrew.
Casey
I have SCUBA dived with sharks.
I was in a car, once, that burst into flame.
I was trapped in Los Angeles, in 1992, during the riots. Buildings were being burned down around me, small arms fire was going off, and the National Guard had to take up a position protecting the radio station that I was trapped in.
Nothing.....
NOTHING has caused me more stress than the slumber party that my daughter threw, at my house, Saturday night.
6 innocent LOOKING 9 year old girls descended upon my house, starting at 6 pm. They smiled, and kissed their parents goodbye. I thought to myself, This is going to be cute. This is a sweet group of girls. This was a good idea.
I could not have been MORE wrong.
When the last parent dropped off the last girl, and the door shut, I turned to face the little angels. But, the girls had vanished. They were replaced by 6 of the most horrible demons, from the darkest depths of Hell. Their innocent little eyes had been replaced by orbs of flame, which were now shooting directly into my skull. I went from wondering what fun games I was going to play with these precious little snowflakes, to wondering if I was going to live to see another day.
It all started off innocently enough. We had decided to feed the girls pizza. Harmless, right? Well, it should have been. A smart person would have used a coupon, and ordered pizza from one of the approximately 7,236 pizza places that are within a mile of my house.
Not me.
Nope.
We were going to MAKE pizza. We bought pizza dough, and grated cheese, and mushrooms, and sauce, and pepperoni, and olives, and onions. It was, dare I say, GENIUS!?!!! One would think. But, one also needs to have his head examined.
Me: Did everyone roll their dough?
Girl #1: Mine's not round.
Me: That's okay. It doesn't have to be round.
Girl #1: HERS is round.
Me: Oh...Uh...Okay. Let me see if I can get yours round.
Girl #2: I'm making mine square.
Girl #3: I'm making mine shaped like a heart.
Girl #4: I'm making mine like an "S," 'cuz that's what my name starts with.
Girl #5: I don't want a round one, anymore. Can I do mine over?
Me: Well, yeah. I guess so.
Girl #5: Good. I want mine shaped like a horse.
Me: A horse? Do you know how to do that?
Girl #5: I'm gonna let YOU do it.
Me: You're gonna let ME do it?
Girl #2: Will you make my square one, too?
Girl #3: And my heart one?
Girl #4: And make my "S," too.
Girl #1: I don't want a round one, anymore. I want a kitty.
Me: Uhhhhhhhhhh....................I'll..........Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........I don't.........
Girl #6: I don't like pizza.
Me: Uh...Okay. Do you want a grilled cheese?
Girl #6: Yes, please.
Me: Okay. That'll be easy.
Girl #6: Shaped like a puppy.
Me: Shaped like a puppy?
Girl #6: Yes, please.
Me: I don't.........uhhhhh.......
Then, they all ran downstairs to scream, in unison. Apparently, they were on some sort of VERY tight schedule, and if they didn't get downstairs and scream, NOW, it was going to throw the entire evening off. So, they got to their screaming, while I attempted to turn common, everyday, household food items into a bizarre menagerie of animals and geometric shapes, that were to be eaten.....Though only halfway. Something in the 9 year old DNA does not allow them to finish their entire meal. They can, however, eat endless amounts of junk food. Amounts that would cause me, a 39 year old man, to puke.
And speaking of junk food, I would like to insist that ALL parents make sure that their children know whether or not they are allergic to peanuts, and thusly inform the moronic parents who decided to have a slumber party. You see, we made a variety of different cookies for the girls to snack on. One of the types was peanut butter cookies. For those of you who don't know, one of the main ingredients in peanut butter cookies is............Get Ready..........PEANUT BUTTER. Wait, it gets better.......One of the main ingredients of peanut butter is...........Anybody?.............PEANUTS. So, someone who is allergic to peanuts, would be allergic to peanut butter.
Girl: Mr. Bartholomew?
Me: Yes.
Girl: I ate a peanut butter cookie.
Me: That's okay. You can eat anything you want.
Girl: Well, there might be a problem.
Me: What's that?
Girl: Well, I MIGHT be allergic to peanuts.
Me: Well, that's okay........Wait.........What?
Girl: I might be allergic to peanuts.
Me: Uhhhhhhhhh..........
Girl: Yeah.
Me: Uhhhhhhh....Are you feeling okay?
Girl: I don't know.
Me: Uhhhhhhhh....Okay.....I can deal with this......Do you have any medication with you?
Girl: No.
Me: YOU LEFT YOUR MEDICATION AT HOME!?!!!.....Uhhhh....Okay....I'm gonna call your parents.
Girl: I don't wanna call my parents.
Me: Sweetie, we have to get your medication.....Don't touch any more cookies, okay?
Girl: I don't have any medication.
Me: I know. I'm going to call your mommy, and have her bring it. Just stay away from the cookies.
Girl: My mommy doesn't have it.
Me: Well.......WHO DOES!?!!
Girl: I don't take any medication.
Me: Well......uhhhhh......I thought you were allergic to peanuts?
Girl: Well, I THINK I might be.
Me: You think.
Girl: I saw it on TV.
Me: You saw it on TV.
Girl: Yes.
Me: But, you're not allergic.
Girl: No. But, I could be.
Me (closing my eyes): Okay.
Girl: Can I have another cookie?
Me (rubbing my temples): Yes. Just....take the bag down into the basement.
Girl: Thank you.
Me: Uh-huh.
I was also expecting these 9 year old girls to want to play some games. I'm thinking things like "Pin The Tail On The Donkey," or "Twister," or "Hide and Seek." That's the kind of stuff I did when I was 9. Of course, I also fashioned a parachute out of a bed sheet, and jumped off the roof. But, that's me. PLUS, I was a boy. Boys are dumb, and we do dumb things like jumping off the roof. I fully expect to find my son's injured body, splayed out on my front lawn, after HE makes HIS bed sheet parachute. He is, after all, MY son.
Truth be told, after the NEXT thing they did, I would have happily provided them all with sheets to jump off the roof with.
I'm not 100% certain how it all started. There was talk of boys. A LOT of talk about boys. Boys that were cute. Boys that they liked. Boys that they didn't LIKE, but that they would kiss anyway ( I know.....That last one kinda threw me, too.)
Then, there was whispering. When a group of boys gets together, and whispers, we are usually plotting some form of violence against ourselves, or others. But, boys are stupid, and they always, ALWAYS give themselves away. Again, I would have preferred violence to what came next.
They whispered.
They giggled.
They ALL looked over at me.
Then, they giggled some more, and headed back down to the basement.
So, after a while, I went down to see what they were doing. Clearly they were up to SOMETHING. As a responsible parent, it was my job to find out what it was. And, also as a responsible parent, it was my job to make sure that it, whatever "it" was, was stopped. As far as I knew, the fate of the free world depended on it.
I went downstairs, and found the girls happily drawing pictures of faces. No problem, right? Art. Girls like art. Girls are crafty. They like to do such things. NOW this was going the way that I imagined it would. We'd had pizza, and the girls were happily drawing pictures in the basement. Does it get better than that? I think not. So, I went back upstairs to watch "The Gilmore Girls." (Yes, I like "The Gilmore Girls." I like Lauren Graham. Deal with it.)
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet like they have in the movies, before the Evil Mutated Death Shark swims up, grabs you by the legs, and pulls you into the murky depths of the ocean, to eat you.
WHAT THEY HELL WERE THESE GIRLS UP TO!!?!!!!
So, I snuck downstairs.....Yes....SNUCK......SNEAKED?.....Either way. I quietly went downstairs.
When I got to the door, I heard giggling. Squealing, even.
Stealthly, I made my way down the stairs.
The squealing conintued.
Then, I made my way around the corner, to the horrible sight.
The girls had attatched the various faces they had drawn onto pillows, stuffed animals, AND a punching bag...........And, they were kissing them.......KISSING THEM!!!!!!!
"Uhhhhhhh.............STOP THAT!!!" I said.
They squealed.
The laughed.
They all ran upstairs.
Leaving me to stare at the crayon induced, make-out partners that were now scattered around my basement.
At this point, it was close to midnight. I had been trying to watch "The Gilmore Girls" for 3 hours (again, deal with it), and I was getting annoyed.
The girls were busy trying to play "Rock Band" on our Wii. So, as you can imagine, it was very peaceful in my house. A few moments later, they all filed into the living room, and wanted to watch TV. I made them all put their pajamas on, and spread their sleeping bags out on the floor.
I was beaten.
They had won.
"The Gilmore Girls" would not be completed, this evening.
I told them that the only rule was that they were not to set foot outside the house. They first one who set foot outside the house, I was going to kill. They screamed, and laughed. This turned out to be a mistake, because for the next two hours they took turns opening the front door, slamming it, and then squealing their way back into the living room while I was TRYING to sleep, upstairs.
The last noise I heard was at about 3am, and I drifted off to a none-too-peaceful sleep.
At 7am I woke up, and found the girls awake, and whispering. I was afraid to sit down, because I was worried that there would be slobber all over my couch cushions due to some impromptu make-out session, with more cartoon faces. YUCK!!
Me: We're going to make pancakes, this morning.
Girl #1: I want chocolate chip.
Me: Chocolate chip? I don't think we have any chocolate.....
Girl #2: I want blueberry,
Me: Uhhhhhhh.....blue......
Girl #3: I want strawberry.
Me: Guys, can we just decide on one.....
Girl #4: Can you put apples on mine?
Me (closing eyes): You know, guys, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and I was wondering....
Girl #5: Do you have whipped cream?
Me: (sigh)....I don't think so.
Girl #6: Mr. Bartholomew?
Me: Yes.
Girl #6: I have a problem with pancakes.
Me: You have a problem with pancakes.
Girl #6: Yes.
Me: Okay.
Girl #3: Can you make them into shapes, again?
Me: Uhhhhhhhh.......DONUTS!!!!! WHO WANTS DONUTS!?!!
Girls (in unison): YEAH!!!!!
Me: Okay. I'll go get a dozen donuts. I'll be back......Maybe.
So, I went to the donut shop, and was going to buy a dozen donuts. I realized, of course, that if I only bought a dozen, someone was going to be sad/feel left out/be allergic to/have a problem with whatever kind I bought.......So, I bought 2 dozen. That's right, 24 donuts to feed 6 little girls.
Good thing.
They ALL took 1 or 2 bites of 3-4 different donuts, and left the sad little donut corpses on my kitchen table. When they were done, there were no donuts left. But, there was NOT ONE SINGLE COMPLETELY EATEN DONUT OUT OF THE ENTIRE 24 THAT I BOUGHT!!!! NOT ONE!!!!
At 10am, not a moment too soon, their parents started showing up, and openly wondered why the girls looked booth exauhsted, and wired, at the same time.
I wanted to punch them ALL in the mouth.
It is THE LAST slumber party that will EVER take place, in my house. It is officially somebody else's turn.
I learned that 6 against 1 are odds too great for ANY man, even if the 6 are a bunch of 9 year old girls.
I learned that women not being able to make a decision starts at a very young age.
I learned that I need to be alone when I watch "The Gilmore Girls." Or, it's not going to happen.
And, I learned that several of the girls are VERY into Aiden and Garrett. Andrew, however, is "such an Andrew."
I don't know what that means, but I don't think it's good. Sorry, Andrew.
Casey
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