There is something about having my parents around where I revert to a lazier, more spoiled, less competent self. I beg them to look after my children – running full-bore into the street, or clamoring for candy – bitch at my husband for every little thing, yell at my kids like a white-trash prole, and accept their sponsorship (read= “cold, hard cash”) on iced coffee and fancy dinners. I am ever-so-grateful for their help, though. The hour following breakfast today (ham, eggs, and homemade apple pie!) where my parents looked after the kids I almost felt a delicious sense of decadence as I was allowed to wash, dry, put away my dishes, sweep my floor, and put away laundry unmolested and without the sounds of kids screaming! Yes, I set my sights high these days.
I have had Badly Drawn Boy’s “Silent Sigh” stuck in my head for about two days. Just by typing that, I am violating my “song lyrics are lame blog posts” rule. However it was funny at the Jefferson County fair to be positive that was the song I was hearing – only to listen more closely and have the tune melt into some new country bullsh*t.
Grandpa acts like a tough old cuss, but I notice he always smiles at my childrens’ antics – in this case, Sophie demonstrating her photographic prowess.