Possumblog

Now then, that's over with.

Had to make my first call of the day to My Friend Jeff^tm and sing "War Eagle" to him. Even though he is an LSU grad and the son of an LSU grad, he seems to have a very thin skin about such things. I do not know why.

WELL, the weekend was full, and most of it Saturday was spent tending to my wife, who's had a bout of internal distress of late, and to make matters worse by a factor of eleventy jillion, she had a nightmare very early Saturday morning. I blame the cheeseburger she had at the game Friday night. Among other things.

Now, nightmares can be very distressing. But when you've got work stress, and a gut full of stadium hamburger and popcorn in you, and all them female hormone-driven emotions coursing through your innards, nightmares can become MUCH more disturbing. And tear-inducing.

I don't blame her for being upset--the worst one combined all of the hot-button phobias and angstiness you could think of--missing child, missing husband, frightening circus clown showing up in missing husband's clothes, missing child recovered after having been nearly drowned by said clown--on and on. It really was an awful sounding dream, and was one of those that kept her edgy and spent-feeling all weekend.

First thing to do was get her calmed down and close the tear duct valves, and then get her downstairs for some hot chocolate and sunshine. We watched the hummingbirds for a bit, then went outside and let Lightning out to play a bit while we sat on the stone bench and played with him. Or rather, watched him entertain himself by trying to get himself a squirrel out of the pine tree.

Reba finally got calmed back down enough from her cocktail of chocolate, kittens, flowers, sunshine, and hummingbirds to come back inside and start breakfast. Or tell me what she wanted, rather. No use having her possibly burn something and have THAT become something to set off the eye sprinklers. So, she gave me an idea what she wanted, and I set in to make sure it got done easily, quickly, and without scorching anything or turning the eggs hard and brown. (By the way, it was croissants stuffed with sausage, egg, cheese and onion. And, of course, more hot chocolate.)

That done, more domesticity--got that laundry going so she wouldn't feel distressed about going off with the girls to do their get-together that afternoon.

Now, obviously, I love my wife and don't want her to feel bad about a dumb ol' dream, and I get a benefit out of breakfast and clean clothes just like everyone else, but I must admit another (very minor and inconsequential) reason for being as solicitous as I possibly could be (short of putting on a dress and pretending to be her mother) was that I wanted her in a good mood so I could watch the Auburn-LSU game without feeling guilty. Yes, I know such an admission makes me sound very shallow and callous, but I'm a guy. If guys weren't shallow and callous, wars would be VERY boring.

As would football.

Anyway, I DID get to watch my game, and the girls (including Cat, even though it was supposed to be a teen thing for the girls at church, which turned out to be a mistake to send her along) took off on their expedition while Boy and I rooted on the Tigers (blue and orange version). Actually, I rooted, and Jonathan wanted to know when his friend was going to call back. He'd asked Jonathan to come over to his house Saturday, but apparently didn't know his family had planned a reunion. Boy called and they said they'd be back by lunchtime, but they never called back. Thus, disappointing Boy to no end.

::sigh::

He's not nearly shallow and callous enough.

After the heart-stopping conclusion of the game (and I was through mentally berating CBS, and most especially twin morons Craig Bolerjack and Steve Beuerlein), Jonathan asked, "Dad, since I've been really good today, do you think I could maybe get something I've been wanting to get?"

We still had to have supper anyway, so we decided to go do our own boy's night out at Target, where he got to shop to his heart's content for various action figures that he'd been eyeing for weeks now. That seemed to take some of the sting out of not getting to go to his friend's house. Some, not all. Also made a stop at Arby's for hot meat in order to buck up his spirits. By the time we got home, he was feeling chipper again.

Then Reba got home, and apparently Catherine was a pill for the last part of the trip and made the whole thing have an unpleasant conclusion and a very long ride home.

::sigh::

At least everyone got to make their own custom lotion/bathstench material. All sorts of exotic fragrances that smelled like a candle shop explosion. I am in the wrong line of work, let me tell you.

Anyway, aside from the Youngest acting like a turd, they had a pretty good time of things and spent wads of cash, so, you know, it's all good, eh?

Of course.

Sunday was more quiet, although still very busy with a trip across the county for lunch, then back to our side of town for a series of meetings Reba had at the church building. Me? I stayed in the van with Boy and Catherine and we all slept for a while. "Slept" in my case being something more like "lapsed into semiconsciousness." Real sleep is restful, and slouching in a van seat while you drift in and out is just tiring.

Evening services, then to home, and then COMPUTER STUFF!

Grr. Seems that Catherine set up herself a Yahoo e-mail account. WHICH SHE CAN'T DO since she's under 13. So I had to wrestle her account name and password from her and delete it, and then make her a new account without her name or other pervy-attracting information and make it a part of MY account on Yahoo. How did she do this!? I mean, there's a big screen that comes up and says you have to get your parents to finalize your account if you're too young.

Well, it seems her teacher helped them all set up an account--you know, since it's supposed to be your parent or guardian, and she's their guardian at school.

"WTF!?" I abbreviated to myself in my mind--"Catherine--she's NOT your guardian! If you have a parent, THEY are your guardian, your teacher is NOT." I told her when I got her up this morning that I'd redone her account and told her I needed to be able to see who sends her stuff, and she understood that much. I don't think the teacher understands the implications of her actions, but it's still more than a little off-putting that she wouldn't at least use something through the school, or get the school to invest in some kid-safe software that resides on their server rather than wide-open ether. But then again, there are parents that think nothing of giving their 9-year-olds cell phones or letting them go online with no supervision. Still, there's way too many murderous clowns out there for my comfort.

Anyway, it was a tiring weekend. I need a nap.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at September 18, 2006 09:14 AM