Sitting here while drinking my morning vodka coffee I started thinking about an occurrence of a couple weekends ago. It was a brutal lesson that I am unfortunate to have had to learn at the ripe age of twenty four.
I was hanging around at the new dad's house. It was a pretty nice Saturday. The boys had the four wheelers out in the backyard (my nephew builds and races them), and we had all sat down for cheeseburgers and fried potatoes. My dad's wife had just gotten back from a trip to Gatlinburg with her mother, and she brought back with her all kinds of yummy goodies. They make the best old fashioned candy down there, for those who don't already know. I had sampled the peppermint sticks and other various flavors of "old fashioned stick candy" that she had brought back, and began to be intrigued by a round plastic container of what looked to be large green M&Ms. I picked the container up to investigate, and it read something along the lines of "Uncle Ben's Candy Shoppe," which stirred up the thought that these large green ovals inside must be some type of ooey gooey goodness. Anything from a candy shoppe must be good, right? I pop open the container and pop one in my mouth, halfway closing my eyes to savor the sweetness. Suddenly the spices take hold of my taste buds and batter them to a bloody pulp, only to then grab onto my tonsils and hang on for the ensuing rodeo. I gag and spit the 'candy' into the garbage and run to the sink for water. Frantic with flames shooting from all facial orifices (probably even my ears), I run to the living room screaming, "What the heck were those things in that clear container??!?!" Nanny (my dad's wife) responds calmly with a "Oh, those are Wasabi Peanuts. You know those kids on John & Kate plus 8 eat those." Oh, well in that case - that changes everything. OH MAH GAWSH, for the mercy of all things good and right, those were disgusting!!!!! <-- There are not enough exclamation points in the world to describe this. I vowed to never eat them again. But, I had to bring a couple home in a baggie for my dear unsuspecting mother. When she almost gagged until puking I calmly stated, "Yeah, those kids on John & Kate eat those."
Never before in my life have my taste buds been violated in such a demeaning way. It is dangerous to have this type of weapon on your kitchen table in a container marked CANDY. Heartless, cold, cruel. . . and everything else bad and evil in the world. Never. Again. Ever.
On a lighter note, this weekend was a good one. My Pup received a paycheck on Friday, so we had a little tiny bit of cash. Honestly, I would be ashamed to tell you what our (his) monthly income is. My monthly income, on the other hand, is nonexistent. But, I digress. He hardly makes anything even after putting in 40+ hours a week, but it could always be worse. Anyway, mama watched The Kid for me on Friday, only to call my cell two hours later to tell me to come home, because she was ready to go in her bedroom and watch a movie. That whole two hour period that I got to get away was refreshing to say the least, and I returned home to sit there in case The Kid woke up - he was already asleep, but I guess she couldn't watch her movie for fear that she may have to get up and tend to him if he should wake up. Whatever, I was pleased with what I got.
Saturday we went to my new dad's for a redneckin' good time - watchin' my nephew race his (death trap) four wheeler. After hanging around there for a minute, and Pup being verbally attacked politely asked to get his filthy shoes of Nanny's carpet, we left for the track. We followed them down a type of road that could only be described as a holler (a hollow for those of you not in the know), and by the time we made it to the track I was almost nauseous from all of the twists and turns (not to mention we were traveling about 80mph). There was a lady standing at the bottom of a hill with her three kids (dirty in diapers) next to what looked to be a 1984 Cutlass, taking up an entry fee. I'm not sure how much it cost to get into the event, because my dad must've paid our fee - we were flagged on through.
After traveling up a gravel road we pass a building made out of cinder block that reads, "Snack Shack" on a handmade sign taped beside the front door. Nanny gets out of dad's truck (we were following them), and walks back to our vehicle to ask The Kid if he wants a hot dog. He gets out with her, and we drive on up the hill - they were to walk up and meet us. When we got to the top I was amazed at what I saw. Nothing. There was a dirt track (drag strip), and a bunch of people huddled around pick up trucks (with tailgates down) and coolers. What was in the coolers, I'm not sure, but everyone seemed to be having a good time. There was a set of wooden bleachers that I was a little scared to sit on, but my fears somewhat subsided when Nanny put down a blanket for us to sit on. The Kid was in heaven, and since I only had one pair of earplugs for him, I was in hell. We were smack dab right up front and the four wheelers were merely 8ft. in front of us. Two racers would line up at the front of the strip, and would take off when their light turned green. Upon their taking off mud and dirt was slung all over the wooden bleachers and it's patrons. Amazing. The Kid is standing up, holding his hands out like he's revving the engine, and it's all he can do to keep from jumping up and down in excitement. I, on the other hand, wished I would've brought some morphine Tylenol along for the ride. Those engines were so loud that I could feel the sound traveling in my left ear and out my right. Needless to say, we stayed about halfway through the race and left after I convinced The Kid that it was really over, and we just needed to hurry and go to beat traffic. We stood, brushed the dirt off of us, and walked to the car. I spent the next hour picking dried mud out of my hair. That's how we do weekends in my neck of the woods.
You may be wondering how my nephew did (probably not, but maybe). Well, he barely even got to race. He built his four wheeler from the ground up, and spent over a thousand bucks on parts, and he made the engine too powerful for the thing to hold. As soon as he hit the gas his chain snapped off and busted everything up - so he had to put it up. He brought another bike, and raced it a couple times, but that bike was nothing compared to the one he built. We all had a pretty good time though. I had never been to one of these races before.
I almost forgot to add one of the reasons why I left. My new dad's oldest daughter showed up, and I could overhear her talking about her sister (the evil one that wrote me the nasty messages), and I was kind of worried that maybe she would call her and tell her I was there, and then she would come up there and try to cause a scene. After all, in one of her messages to me she did say, "Don't get too comfortable. You will be tested." (Ooooh. Scaaaary. lol) I didn't want to have to throw down right there - especially with The Kid there. No worries, I would've taken up for myself at all costs, but that would've been just a little too redneck for my taste.
So, that is my update, dear interwebz. I hope all of my friends out there (all two of you!) have missed me incredibly. I'll be stopping by everyone's blog shortly. Also, I'm running a little low on blogs in my Google Reader, so I would appreciate it if you all would leave me a couple links to your all-time favorite blogs. I have way too much free time during the day, and I needs some readin' material! Plus, I'm trying to get all of my favorites together for my blog roll.
Au Revoir,
(P.S. No, I didn't have to google Au Revoir to figure out how to spell it.)
Okay, maybe I did. So what?
