Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Such are the dreams of the everyday housewife

You know the kind you see everywhere any time of the day?!? The everyday housewife who gave up the good life for me. This doesn’t apply to us. It has been slow the last few days in the life of Bonnie and Clyde (Lindsey said that I have to quit referring to myself as Bonnie). I guess I could call us the dynamic duo, Pancho and Lefty, eggs and bacon, peanut butter and jelly even though Lindsey doesn’t like to be called “chunky”, potted meat and mayonnaise……you get the point.

This weekend we are going to celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday. She will not tell me how old she is and I don’t guess it is a good idea to saw her in half and count the rings. I have a guess but will not reveal it here. We are going to eat at Red Lobster then we are having a loser leave town come dressed as you are coal miner’s glove death match of Putt Putt Golf. I will win unless someone cheats. So if anyone claims victory just assume that I was shafted.

I will probably order the shrimp feast platter. I am like the slow guy on Forrest Gump. I like shrimp. That may be the only similarity that I have with the guy. I haven’t watched that movie in a few years so I am not sure. 53. That is my educated guess for my mother-in-laws age. Here is how I deduced that number. She graduated in 1977 from Prattsville High School. She had a birthday a month before she graduated. She should have been 18 years old when she graduated high school and if you deduct 18 from 1977 you get the number 1959. It is the year 2008 so when you do the math you come up with the number 49. Here is where the college degree X street smarts / dashing good looks come into play. I have been at my in-laws house while Fox television station was airing an episode of their popular show “Are you smarter than a 5th grader.” Based on my findings from this sitting it is my theory that she didn’t pass the third grade on the first try. Therefore I am going to round up to the number 53. So let me be the first to wish my beloved mother-in-law a happy 53rd birthday. Seriously you don’t look a day over 52.

Monday, April 21, 2008

I'll try not to sing out of key

I need a little help from my friends. No, really I am in a dilly of a pickle, a jam if you will. What is the problem you ponder? Last night my lovely and pregnant bride hit me in the back of the head with a bar of soap. Here I am in a bathtub full of hot water having to defend myself from flying bars of Safeguard and sprays of Mr. Bubble. I can see the confusion in all your faces so let me start from the beginning. My apologies if any of this gets a little racy.

April 23rd will be our 3rd anniversary. In celebration of this glorious date I made accommodations for the two of us to spend a lovely relaxing weekend at the beautiful, historic and majestic Arlington Hotel and Spa. I always thought that the term majestic meant luxurious, stunning maybe even breathtaking. There was a Mrs. Pacman game in the arcade that was the newest edition to the hotel. A 1980 edition. Apparently old and dilapidated are the true meanings for the word majestic. I guess it would be a bad idea to call my mother in law majestic now.

Friday afternoon we checked into the hotel. We ate dinner at one of the dining establishments inside the Arlington because I was obviously fitting the profile of a fool and his money. You know the one that says we easily depart. The food was good and we didn’t have to get out and fight all the corvettes and motorbikes. Not a total loss. We turned in for the evening knowing that we had a busy day ahead on Saturday.

Saturday morning we went to a little shop across the street for breakfast then walked around the downtown area looking at the shops and different attractions. We had to be back at the hotel at 2:30 for our trip to the spa. That’s right ladies yours truly went to the spa. We actually made it back to the room about an hour early. With an hour to kill we did what any young couple would do. I took a shower and Lindsey watched tv. Yes I took a shower. Excuse me for wanting to be clean before my mineral bath and massage.

We arrive at the spa and get situated. They have a woman’s side and a man’s side. Lindsey went to the pink and I went to the blue. Since Lindsey is preggo she could not get the mineral bath. She had to settle for a forty minute massage. I opted for the works; consisting of a mineral bath, fifteen minute sauna sitting, relaxing hot towel wrap and twenty minute massage.

For those of you who have never experienced the spa treatment before then I will allow you to come along with me for the experience. They gave me a towel and sent me to a changing room. In this changing room I had the choice of bathing or birthday suit. I did not know bathing suits were allowed therefore didn’t have one with me. I exited the changing room with my towel wrapped around my body and accompanied my bath house attendant, an older African American gentleman named Harold, to another small room. Inside this small room there is a large tub half full of hot mineral water. This is where the story gets a little odd. Once inside this room I was instructed to remove my towel and get in the tub. After settling into the tub of hot water I was scrubbed down with a luffa and soap by your bath house attendant. I was given a bath by an old man. Naked. I loved it and would do it everyday. It was the second most enjoyable experience I have ever had that involved an old man, a sponge, a tub of hot water and no clothes. Don’t judge me.

After the bath I went to the sauna then over to the hot towel wrap. After this it was on to the massage. I was rubbed down by a professional. It was great. The rest of the weekend was nice but I was too relaxed to recall any details.

Now to the point of where you may be of assistance to me. Spa treatments are not cheap. I am in direct need of financial assistance. Not to pay for the trip we were on but to get more massages. Here is how you can help. Next Saturday I will be having my first semi annual spa bikeathon. The point of a bikeathon, or any athon, is to raise money for a needy cause. I can’t think of any better charity than myself. I will have to borrow a bike from one of the Hispanic children in the neighborhood but it will all work out. What I would like to see each of you do is pledge $10 per lap around the block. Maybe I can even raise enough money to buy my own hot tub, sauna and massage table. I would let each of you take turns being my bath giver. Don’t worry ladies I will wear a bathing suit for the scrub down. I will be in my birthday suit for the guys because lets be honest bathing in a swimsuit just doesn’t make much sense. I am going to go ahead and allow Ron the honor of giving the inaugural cleansing. The list will be completed by the order in which you respond. Don’t worry about not getting in on the rotation I can take more than one bath a day if we need to double up to let everyone have a turn.

You are probably asking why don’t you just run a tub full of water and have Lindsey bathe you. Last night after I ran me a hot bath I called for her to come in and scrub me down. This resulted in the soap to the back of the head. I don’t understand pregnant women. I would find it very therapeutic to give me a bath.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Who's peeking out from under a stairway

Calling a name that's lighter than air. Who's bending down to give me a rainbow. Everyone knows it's Windy. Seriously, it has been very windy the last few days. You may be thinking that you would rather have mild temperature with windy conditions than rain or extreme heat but that is where you are sadly mistaken. This wind plays havoc on my golfing. Of course the wind does allow me to excuse any errant shots.

Maybe I should embrace the wind. Maybe I could learn to play the wind. Maybe I could pick up a new hobby. Maybe I'll dye my hair. Maybe I'll move somewhere. Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine. Maybe I'll just be fine; Lord it is like a hard candy Christmas. Sorry, when Dolly Parton jumps in my head I tend to get a little off track. Her eyes are so big it sorta forces me off track. When I think of Dolly the best little whorehouse in Texas comes to mind. I am referencing the movie not an actual location. There is no way that I could classify which whorehouse is the best in Texas. I have only been to three of them and they were all eerily similar.

This weekend Lindsey and I will be out of town celebrating our third anniversary. Other than that our lives have been pretty calm. Next weekend Lindsey volunteered us to assist our new Missionary in moving all of his possessions from DeQueen to Leola. I don't have Drs orders to not lift anything over 25lbs, that is why I didn't volunteer US. I will not say anything else about this. It could be worse we could be going shopping all day.

The OBGYN appointment was today. The doctor that Lindsey has used for the past three years is retiring from delivery next month so we got to meet the new doctor today. He seems very nice and was very thorough. He asked us to wait until June to take the next ultrasound, so we have a couple of months before we will find out the gender.

I am currently booking the gender of the baby. The odds are favored for a boy at 3/5. If you are interested in placing a bet call my work phone number and say the following “Cats in the bag.” If the voice on the other end says “Bags in the river” you must say “Cat can’t swim.” I will hang up; you can bring your money to the Sheridan Mad Butcher 15 minutes later. Go to the deli and order a liverwurst sandwich on pumpernickel with a side of mulligatawny. If the cashier appears baffled you should leave and try to call again on the next Tuesday. If the cashier says we don’t have any then you need to place your left index finger over your right earlobe and flick three times. The cashier will then direct you to the cat food isle. I will be perched on the second shelf behind three upside down bags of whiskas. There will be no small talk, have your bet placed in a sealed envelope. Hand me the envelope grab a bag of hostess powdered doughnuts and leave. I don’t allow quenelles or any parlay action. The odds are subject to change. Good luck.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Every other day of the week is fine........

But whenever Monday comes you can find me crying all of the time. Lindsey bought me the Mamas and the Papas greatest hits a few years ago. It is a shame that Mama Cass was so in love with ham sandwiches but who doesn't enjoy a nice ham and cheese sandwich with mayo and tomato.

This weekend was a long one. Lindsey and I along with a few other adults took 17 teenagers to the annual Arkansas Youth Conference also known as AYC. We left town about 5 o'clock on Friday heading to the hotel. AYC didn't start until 8 so we had time to get checked in to our rooms and get settled in before walking over to the convention center.

Luckily Lindsey's mother saved us seats about halfway to the stage. Unluckily there were about 872 screaming teenage girls sitting behind me that felt it necessary to scream directly into my ear.

Why is it necessary to scream when someone with a microphone says anything? Seriously, if someone walks out on a stage and makes a comment about eating lunch at Church's fried chicken I don't get the urge to scream. I love Church's. They serve crinkled french fries and greasy fried chicken. Delicious fried apple pies topped off with some red pop mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. But I don't feel it is my duty to bust the eardrums of the handsome patron seated immediately in front of me. So why, girls, do you do this to me? Is it because I am wearing ear plugs? Did my wife secretly slip you a couple of dollars to torture me? I haven't been a teenage girl in a long time so this act confuses me.

We ate pizza Friday night and woke early on Saturday to do it all again, not eat pizza but the AYC portion. Scotty Pickington stayed at the same hotel that we did. Funny, I always thought that his name was Scotty Pippen. Jokes on me I guess. We ate breakfast at McDonalds then it was back to AYC.

The morning session started at 10 and lasted until 11:45. We ate lunch at the flying fish. I had a shrimp poboy and Lindsey had catfish. Then we walked around the farmers market. I tried to purchase some pickled beets but Lindsey vetoed the transaction.

Back to AYC for the afternoon session. Unfortunately this turned into the never ending story. The kids where becoming restless and the sponsors were dropping like flies. Finally we left around 4:30. We had a good time and the kids enjoyed themselves. I wish the people in charge of AYC would ask my opinion on a few things. Next year let’s try a band that doesn’t play extremely loud music. How will you ever know if the kids like a classic country sound if you don’t give them the opportunity to hear it? Willie Nelson has a gospel album last time I checked! Some of you may complain that I left all the good details about our trip to AYC. Obviouly you didn't read the part about lunch Saturday. Just kidding. It was a good conference.

Lindsey was sick all day Sunday. Partially from a lack of sleep on Friday and partially from being with child.

Next Wednesday is the 16 week appointment. The 20 week appointment will be sometime in mid May. Hopefully we will get good reports at both. The 20 week appointment is the ultrasound to check and make sure things are going well. It also gives us a chance to find out the gender. Please remember us in your prayers. Thanks, or as our friends from the far east say "Tank yoo vely mut"