A Veritable Smorgasboard....

Well.

How many of you are shocked that I haven't blogged in over a month?

Anyway, much excitement since the last entry... pictures will follow as soon as I figure out how to upload them from my new camera.

First and foremost, I am out of school for the summer.

Praise God! Hallelujah!

After much contemplation over the last days of school, I decided that high school students are crazy, as well as that I am insane for thinking that I like them. I am glad that it is summer; otherwise, I might not have been able to withhold the barrage of smart aleck comments that teeter on the tip of my tongue in response to their silly utterances.

Likewise, the district might not be able to withhold the immediate termination of my job were that barrage of comments to escape... thus, it is a fabulous thing that summer vacation came when it did.

Second, Swimmer is getting huge, and I am pretty dang cranky. More on that later.

Third, it is vacation time, which -- for the J-Town inhabitants -- means craziness. K and I took a trip to NYC to see my Yankees play in their final season at historic Yankee Stadium. Despite the drunk people sitting next to us (who weren't even Yank fans!), the game was *sigh* incredible.... as was seeing the city with my fabulous hubby (his first time!) AND not having multiple children in tow (besides Swimmer, who goes everywhere with us at this time...).

The kids and I just got back from the beach with my Clemson girls (as well as our 9! kids), which was -- as always -- lots o' fun. I do think I have heartburn, and I also hope that Laney has 12 kids just like herself when she grows up because I did consider selling her to the highest bidder on a couple of occasions. One of the highlights of this year's trip was NOT having car trouble.

(Feel free to browse blogs from last summer if you missed the short novella on all of the transportation issues we had on last year's trip...)

We have a couple of other trips planned -- including a brief outing with my family, which always promises good stories.... like my dad threatening to go home last year after I dared get bent out of shape that they (as in the rest of the family) were late, causing us to miss our reservation to the famed Lady & Sons restaurant after I had gotten up at the crack of dawn (because no one else wanted to do so) to secure the reservation.

Now anyone who knows me knows that Toad, my cute little round father, is the apple of my eye. As cute and cuddly as he is, Toad is not a man that I talk back to, nor is he a man that I would normally cross, because 1) he is my father, 2) he has a rather vicious temper (I might add that I inherited this from him), and 3) he is just crazy enough that he might do the things he says (like send me to a boarding school for troubled kids -- which was enough, as a teenager, to keep me somewhat in line... even though I wasn't troubled, and I don't think he really would have sent me... but he didn't seem to be kidding...).

When the family finally arrived AFTER our required check-in time, bumping us to the END of the long, long reservation list, I was livid... to say the least. If I could've poked every single person there in the eye, I would have.

And I would've enjoyed it.

(For the record, I didn't care one bit about going to this place, although I am a Paula Deen recipe fan... My mom, sweet Mayree, had been talking about going for months... it was really all that she truly wanted to do on the trip.)

So... after I got up earlier than I even get up for school.... after I traipsed through pre-dawn Savannah by myself while the rest of my family snoozed... after I had to wait in a long, long, long line (which I don't do -- ever -- unless it's for something REALLY good... like a 75% off sale)... I was more than a little irate that the rest of the family (being chauffered by K) didn't get there in time...meaning my entire morning had been a waste.

Now -- had my dad gotten up for this task, things would have been different. First, we wouldn't have been eating there because my dad does not wait in line. Period. Sale or no sale. Second, if the rest of us hadn't shown up at the right time, he would've turned red and ballooned up like a blowfish and possibly gone postal on the entire city of Savannah.

I felt that my seething rage -- which was pretty well contained -- was justified.

The rest of my family didn't seem to understand... which multiplied the rage like water multiplied the Gremlins.

They actually kept asking me what was wrong. My dad kept trying to get me to cheer up.(Valuable sidenote: it is not wise to continue to provoke an obviously angry person.)

Finally, I spouted off some furious blurb from between clenched teeth about how none of them (have I mentioned that?) wanted to listen to me (who had been to the restaurant and experienced the reservation process before) when I told them we all needed to go into Savannah early... and that I hoped they all enjoyed sleeping in because I certainly enjoyed standing in line alone like a beggar at a soup kitchen... and that next time we needed reservations to go somewhere, they could get up and get their own if they couldn't be anymore considerate.

I'm not exactly sure what I said... but it was something like that.

As soon as I said it, I thought, "Oh my gosh. My life, as I know it, is over because my dad is going to rip me apart, limb by limb, for talking to him like that."

It seemed like time froze... and it was on.

He started turning an odd shade of beet red... which morphed into an unhealthy purplish hue... while I waited, in horror, for him to snatch me up in the middle of Savannah in front of my children.

You can imagine my surprise when he just spat, "Fine. I'll pack my things and go home."

I was so surprised, in fact, that my tongue again began to speak without my permission.

"Fine, " I retorted. "Do what you gotta do."

I don't know who was more surprised -- him or me. I've always been much more vocal than my brother, so I don't think he was surprised that I had something to say... it's just that even on my worst day, during our worst disagreement, I've never been brave (or stupid) enough to say something that brazen.

Thankfully, he seems to have mellowed in his, um, older age, and he just stalked off a little ways down the street. I returned to glowering by a street lamp, and the possibilities of atomic hazard dissipated.

Mayree, as usual, was amazed that Toad didn't launch me into the river or at the least yell...

K, on the other hand, made a good point: my dad taught hand-to-hand combat in the Army, for Pete's sake. Why would I intentionally provoke him?!?!? (This might be a good time to add that K has a healthy respect/fear of Toad... or at least what he thinks Toad might do...)

Needless to say, after that, the mood was pretty much shot... compounded by the fact that the air wasn't working in the restaurant... and then that the power went out while we were eating... and then that it was 879 degrees in the shade that day.

Toad and I haven't spoken of that little exchange since, which is kind of our way... neither of us is big on apologies... especially when we don't think we're totally in the wrong... but you can totally see why you should wait with bated breath for stories from our upcoming vacation... right? :-)