His First Haircut

Well, it's not his FIRST haircut. It's just the first one he's given himself. Yep. Part of the pre-mission training program at the Reader household is haircut 101. For years and years I have cut Jim and Kev's hair. And before I did it....my Mom did. In fact in the 20 some odd years I've known Jim, he has never paid for a haircut. True. Kev has a couple of times....you know....when Mom wasn't doing it right. Whatever. I'll have you know I am a wiz with the clippers. But now it is time to pass the torch. Time for Kevy to learn this vital skill so that he will be able to maintain that close crop all the young missionaries are sporting now-a-days. Who knows...at $5 a pop....maybe he can supplement his missionary income. If you didn't know...we are waiting with baited breath to get his mission call in the mailbox. Just about the time I am leaving for Idaho
....it should be here. Drat! Oh well. Not much I can do about that. We are so excited and can't stop singing the primary song....."I Hope They Call Me On A Mission....." So if you have any advice or counsel that you think I will benefit from....please leave it for me....I am going a little crazy. Oh, and a shout out to Michelle, who at this very moment is being prepped for her c-section. Baby Cooper is set to arrive at about 7:30 (Mountain Daylight Savings Time). WOOHOO!!!

Outraged Update

So go ahead say it. I'm yellow, chicken, I'm gutless, a pansy a total weenie. Yep. But I've come to accept those qualities about myself and I try to focus on my more positive attributes. I had every intention of walking back into that tire shop and very nicely pointing out the fact that they had swindled, hoodwinked, bamboozled, tricked and otherwise cheated me. But after I told you every gory detail of the whole affair....I was over it. Vomiting my anger toward them all over my blog left me feeling lighter and less tortured. I was still a bit miffed...but less so at them and more at myself for knowing my limitations and still expecting a different outcome. In their defense, upon further conversation with my dear hubby, I learned that his discount wasn't based so much on his masculinity or his ability to strike fear into the hearts of swindlers everywhere. It was given more because the employee he was dealing with was also employed at the bakery. So he gave his boss (Jim) a "good guy discount" because he thought it might keep him in Jim's good graces.....suck up. So really...since I'm not in charge of any one's salary increase....I did not merit a $50 discount on my tires. Had my D.H. mentioned this to begin with I might not have felt like such a miserable failure to begin with. Oh well. Live and learn.

Outraged!

Never in my life, does a good deed go unpunished. That's just how it is. I think I am doing someone a favor and it backfires. Without fail I am left angry and wonder why I bothered. Why this early morning rant you ask? Well....it all started a couple of days ago. See, Jim and I are planning our anniversary get-away to the temple in Bismarck. The temple is only open for evening sessions on Thurs. & Fri. and then in the morning on Saturday. So we go and hit a couple of sessions and stay over night on account of the 4.5 hour drive. Well, we planned to take the green car (the theory is that if we put all the miles on that car and leave mine home more we will be able to make my car last until Kev gets home from his mission before we have to get into a new car payment) so that being the case....the green car needs new tires. But just 2 new tires since we bought 2 last August. Not sure why....I try to stay out of those decisions. Jim bought the last 2....obviously....because being new in town we hadn't found a reputable tire store/mechanic. If I walk into a tire store and ask for tires for my car the men feel obligated to charge me for changing the air in them first...no lie. Or they try to tell me that I need a new battery or spark plugs or new filters for the headlights. Seriously....even if that stuff does need replaced....I'm not the one who is going to OK it. It's just not my job. I will OK the cable guy to upgrade my internet connection or the bag boy to upgrade me to plastic bags....but I AM NOT the car guy. Never have been. So why...in a million years...I ask you...why did I think I would do Jim a favor and take the car in and buy 2 new tires? He has been so busy at work, he has had an audit this week and mass firings and a plant closing in the Sara Lee family....the guy has had a little on his mind. So he tells me the receipt for the last 2 tires is in the glove compartment and just ask if they will sell me 2 tires for that price. No biggie....right? I feel competent enough to ask for a price match. No problem. Yeah....start laughing now. I would if I were you. Ridiculous! So with receipt in hand....I enter the scummiest, smelliest most unfriendly tire shop I have ever been in. Let's just say it is no Les Schwab. As I walk in I see a guy lounging at the end of a long counter. He is greasy....but I didn't expect anyone working as a mechanic to win any Mr. Clean look-a-like contest...so I wasn't overly surprised. He watches as I nervously approach. (You all know how uncomfortable this kind of stuff makes me....the least he can do is be friendly) He just stares at me and waits for me to get ALL the way to where he is leaning. "Hi....", I nervously start.... "What do you want?" he replies. At that point I am no longer so sure this is a very good idea. I want to turn around and leave....but Jim is really busy and this will make his life so much easier... and I am nothing if not dependable. "I need 2 tires for my car....but I only want them if they are the same price as the last ones I bought here." I hand him my receipt and he smirks. "Yeah, they're the same." I was so relieved. I almost felt better....almost. He told me it would take about 30 minutes and he left. OK. Well....there is a little craft store at the end of the strip mall...I'll just walk there. So after spending 30 wonderful, stink-free minutes in Ben Franklin, I headed back to the tire store. On my arrival a different man is sitting behind the counter and a woman is next to him on the phone. Both of them stare mutely at me as I approach. Not a word.....is it just me or doesn't common courtesy require a greeting at some point? The man finally stands up and the woman continues to glare at me as if I had just interrupted some very important goings on at the trailer park. I stammered something about my car being fitted for new tires. "Oh! I didn't even know there was a car in the garage!" I feel about 2 feet tall as he yucks it up to his own little faux pas. Then from no where emerges the dirtiest man I have EVER see. It appears as though he was squeezed from the grease tube himself. He unceremoniously dumps my keys and the charge slip on the counter in front of the man...looks at me and stumbles off. "Well, let's see here. Huh, so you only wanted 2. Ok." I explained that we had bought 2 tires a few months ago. He asks to see the receipt to check if the price has gone up.....and smirks. This should have made me a little more wary but instead it just made me want out of there. "Sure enough, they are the same". He concurred with the other man and went to work with the calculator to figure the total. I give him my credit card and we conclude our transaction and I high tail it out of there. When I was a safe distance from the stench I glanced at both receipts. Gulp...there is a $50 difference. Upon closer inspection of the receipt I notice that Jim was credited for a tire return(?) to the tune of $50. Apparently I didn't warrant such a credit but still felt pleased that I had done this good deed for my honey. Fast forward to bed time. We were laying there discussing the day. Jim asked how much the tires came to. I told him about the $50 thinking he would explain it and all would be well. Oh...not so much. He was incredulous. "What? Why was it more? I told you to get the same price!" At this point in the day I was over it. I just explained that I didn't get the tire trade-in credit...didn't even know of such a thing...in fact...I'm pretty sure they charged me $5 to haul off the old ones. Then he started laughing at me. Yep.....not the nice, supportive, every thing's-going-to- be-fine chuckling....nope. He laughed the man-you-are-a-dumb-ass laugh. So what did I do? I started to cry. I know....so productive. I was just so mad. Not only did I feel like an idiot but I wasn't even sure why I should feel that way. Jim got the "tire credit" because there is (apparently) a huge mark up in tires and he asked them to give him a deal. WHAT THE HELL!! Did anyone think to tell me these things before they sent me into the lion's den? Obviously had I known the final price was not necessarily the FINAL price I could have figured out my own deal....and now the smirking made sense. They were laughing at me!! So as I boiled about that for a couple of HOURS....I decided the only thing to do is march my female self back in there and let them know there has been a mistake. I asked for the same price that we'd paid earlier and our deal was not honored. So pray for me today as I swim with the sharks again. I just LOVE confrontation so much....I just hope I don't start muttering things about pods of people and other such nonsense.

Sunshine in the Sandbox

Shelby and I went outside for recess today. It was a beautiful sun-filled day....why not....right? We ran, I pushed her on the swing and we played in the sand. Not sand, really....more of a pea gravel. It is a dirty bunch of rocks that inevitably get into my shoes...but for Shelby it is Heaven. It's like the huge rice table in my Mom's classroom. Her kids would use it for tactile stimulation. I loved it when she would fill it with split peas. I could play in that all day. Anyhoo....Shelby was finished swinging and was sitting under her swing. I sat next to her to be at a better vantage point for interrupting the thought process that brought a handful of rocks to her mouth. As we basked in the sun...the cutest pair of pink and green and white Adidas ran past and stopped at the swing next to us. Of course I commended this little cherub on her shoe choice. "Thanks," she said in her squeaky munchkin voice. "They're new." "Oh," I replied with a knowing tone", I love new shoes....especially pink ones." She informed me that she loves all the colors on her shoes and began swinging herself higher and higher. "You know what I love most about new clothes?" she asked me. "I feel so much older when I wear them." "Really?" I asked. "Yeah, like 6 or 7." At this point I am just trying not to laugh. She was just so cute...and serious. Then another class joined us outside and Dominic....my Dominic....jumped on the swing next to my little blond friend. "Hey," he yelled to me in his 80-year-old-smoker voice. "Can you come push me?" "Sorry, Dominic." I replied. "I have to stay close to Shelby." "I can do it", my little friend replied. Picture this teeny tiny little wisp of a thing standing behind this normal sized 6 year old boy on a swing. But she put he back into it and began pushing Dominic again and again until he was over her head. "What do you tell her?" I asked Dominic. "Thank you!" he replied. She sat back on her swing and gazed at me with a look older than her years. "Even though he is a bully to me.....it was the nice thing to do." Ya coulda knocked me over with a feather at that point. "You know what, sweetie, YOU are a good friend. I hope someday I can be a good friend like that." And just like that recess was over. I took Shelby inside and ended my shift by handing her over to Cindy for lunch. I got in my car and prepared to head home. I sat for a minute outside the school .... listening to the remaining class enjoy their recess. How many kids on that playground today would have helped the bully swing his swing. Would I have?

Bird Brained

As I was explaining to Jo, the reasons I might go to the costume ball next month...Kev hollered up from his man cave in the basement, "Mom!! You've got to come see this." Now...I never like to hear those words from anyone....much less from someone in the basement...(whispering)....where the frogs live. Ok. So they don't actually live IN the basement....but occasionally you can see them in Kev's window well....from his basement window.....ick. I reluctantly went downstairs to see what had him in a dither. I will tell you that I did warn him that whatever he was about to show me had better not gross me out in ANY way, shape or form. Upon entering his room...nothing seemed amiss. There were a few scattered shirts in varying degrees of clean on his floor....not out of the ordinary. I relaxed a little not seeing any frogs. But then there was this horrible crashing sound against the window. After I peeled myself off the ceiling....I yelled at, "Kev what the heck that was?!?!" I looked out the window again and there was a robin sitting on the piece of wire mesh that is haphazardly cast over the window well in hopes of keeping out a few of the frogs. Apparently this numb-skull had been trying for most of the morning to get in through that window. He even had the nerve to leave little birdy footprints on the glass. How rude!

Aaahhhh Spring

The neighbor's maple tree is leafing out. I can not tell you the joy that fills my soul at this sight. We have some quakies in our backyard that are putting out those fuzzy pre-leaf pods. Oh my....how I have longed for spring. It is finally here and I am determined not to miss a moment.

Overheard

So I was sitting in kindergarten today. I have been a regular in the class for about 4 months. The children are comfortable with me and allow me to see them in their natural state. We were waiting for the teacher (aka herd leader) to begin the count around...an amusing ritual that they do every morning to ascertain how many of the herd are missing due to illness or ritual haircut or other such goings on. There is a girl...a fairly cute specimen. She is a sassy, spunky little imp and her antics have frequently caused the herd leader to roll her eyes and gnash her teeth. She was telling her leggy, blond, future bombshell carpet neighbor (yes...at 6 years old) how nice she looked with the pink headband in her hair. When in actuality the headband looked a mess. I think Miss Sass knew this, but in order to secure her place among the males of the herd she came up with a plan for The Leggy One. Miss Sass said to The Leggy One, "You should totally wear a headband all the time. It really bring out your eyes. It makes them look so....clear." And so it begins.