Golfing, Special Olympics and Ballet Slippers with Pompoms
My family is off today, helping with the Special Olympics. YEA, for them, YEA for me. I'm at home, alone, with peace and quiet. Beerhound drove me crazy last night before bed, being his normal self. I had to call Bonnie in to save me. She's becoming a much better daughter and immediately came in and got him started on string theory and the explosion of the universe. It's like pointing out a truck to bouncy baby boy.
"Look BB, truck. It's a truck"
And like the true boy toddler he is, he switches his attention instantly and starts yelling, "Truck, Truck."
Thank you Bonnie, that's why I let you borrow my new car. Even though I know you drive 15 miles over the speed limit.
The funny point of the family helping out with golf, is not one of them has golfed or knows anything about golf. Which will certainly make the people they are helping feel better. 3 adults with no handicaps that I know of except lack of common sense, helping some one else play when they themselves haven't the foggiest idea what a tee is.
I asked all three of them to take pictures. All three asked, "Why?"
Oh, I don't know. Maybe so the mother will have a chance to share in their adventure, a chance to save this event for their memories.
Bonnie: "You just want to write a blog about this, don't you?"
Me: "Me? No! I love you. I want to be involved in your life. I want to share in your day! How Ruuuude."
Bonnie: "Yea, right."
Me: "Well, if I blog about it, it's only for your benefit. Besides it might be funny, actually, I meant cute. Yep I meant cute."
Bonnie: "Okay mom, live in your little rainbow world then but you're not fooling us."
Ha! It's so easy to fool her. She believed in Santa for 11 years. 11 years.
But maybe she's a teeny, tiny little bit right but I don't care. I got to dress today the way I wanted without any groaning from them. I even took Lexie out in the front yard, sat on the stoop and let her run around. Bonnie would have had a panic attack after Emma threw a blanket over me and Beerhound loudly proclaimed, "Woman, get off my stoop. I don't no who you are."
Too late, Beerhound, the neighborhood done seen me.