So I was in Seattle over the weekend. I met up with Steve, Aaron, Stapley, Karen, and Tracy from BCC and got to spend some quality time with my sister, bythelbs. Overall, a winner. I even made the drive in record time–three and a half hours, which is how long it’s supposed to take but somehow it always manages to take longer. Way, way longer. Usually it’s Tacoma’s fault but I’m not going to talk trash about Tacoma this time because a) there was no traffic in Tacoma this weekend (at least when I was driving) and b) Tacoma-ites can be really sensitive when you say their town sucks. Not that I would ever do that!*
*Pay no heed to the fact that among the top search engine terms that lead folks to this blog is the phrase “tacoma sucks.” This is a mischaracterization of my position!
Anyway, I’m really glad that I got to go, but I was very tired when I got home. Of course, I was tired when I left. I have been very tired a lot lately. And now I share an anecdote that gives information you may not want to know about me. The night before I left, Girlfriend was sleeping in the bed with me–my husband was downstairs, probably because he fell asleep on the couch playing video games, NOT because I sent him down there–and at one point she came around to my side of the bed and nudged me to move over. I was all like, “What’s wrong with your side of the bed, lady?” but I was too tired to articulate that and instead just rolled over and promptly discovered what I would have guessed already if I hadn’t been so tired, which was that my daughter had peed all over that side of the bed, so naturally she didn’t want to sleep there, duh. Anyway, I was so tired, I didn’t even strip the bed, I just laid towels down and a fresh blanket and called it good enough. I know! It’s disgusting, but I was that tired. Anyway, I meant to change the sheets before I left for Seattle, but I didn’t and when I came home, they still hadn’t been changed. And before you grab your smelling salts, no, my husband did not sleep in that bed while I was gone (I don’t call him “The Princess” for nothing); he slept on the couch downstairs because to his knowledge no one had peed on it. (Lately!) So I was very tired on Saturday night, but yes, I did change the sheets before going to sleep. I have some standards. Sometimes.
I was tired this morning, too, but that’s mainly because Girlfriend woke up twice last night–once to wet the bed (her own this time), and once again to let me know that she hadn’t forgotten that I was home and needed to be woken up multiple times during the night. I’m feeling a bit more alert right now, but my back hurts. I don’t know why my back hurts, it just does. It’s probably a posture thing. I don’t know. I take full responsibility, I just don’t know what to do about it.
So today is Valentine’s Day. I don’t have strong feelings about Valentine’s Day. It is not a holiday that was traditionally observed in the home I grew up in. My father was not a romantic sort of dude, and my mother was not the type to insist that he be romantic anyway. She just quietly resented him for it, the way a good wife does. I’m just kidding. (Sort of.) My father is not the type to forget Valentine’s Day nowadays, but that’s because his second wife is the type who takes responsibility for her own Valentine’s Day happiness by telling him what she wants, i.e. something from him. That’s just an interesting aside, not the topic of this paragraph. Or maybe it is the topic of this paragraph. Maybe I need to start a new paragraph with a new topic. I think I will.
There! Or rather, Here! So I never thought Valentine’s Day was that big of a deal. But it wasn’t just the lack of appropriate V-Day-celebrating example in my home. What really cinched it was the fact that every year in school you had to give valentines to every single person in your class, even the kids you hated. I understand wanting to avoid the Charlie Brown Scenario, where the unpopular kid feels all rejected and crap–so that’s fine, but the fact remains that when valentines are obligatory for everyone, even people you wish would drop dead, the holiday just isn’t all that meaningful anymore, now is it? That’s all I’m saying.
Also, when I got older, I never had a significant other in my life on Valentine’s Day until I got engaged to SD. That’s right, kids. He’s been my only valentine. Everyone collectively sigh at the overwhelming romance of it.
Speaking of romance, this was the exchange between my husband and his boss the other day:
Boss: So that meeting with [Important Mucky Mucks] might go pretty late into the evening. That’s Valentine’s Day. Is Mrs. Housewife going to be okay with that?
SD: Yeah. She knows I love her.
Boss: Oh, right. I forgot–every day is Valentine’s Day in the Madhousehold.
And it’s true, Gentle Readers. So true.
Do you know what our Valentine’s Day tradition is? We take the kids out for pizza. It started when Princess Zurg was little and we couldn’t get a babysitter for Valentine’s Day. A local pizza parlor was serving heart-shaped pizzas, so we just decided to go for it. It was fun. It was tasty. It was cheap. That’s our family, and we like it.
What else can I tell you? I’m happy to report that in my absence, Elvis insisted on making a cake for Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. I love that he remembers those things.
So, yeah, I’m almost to a thousand words of absolutely nothing worth saying, so maybe I’ll wrap it up by asking you all how your weekends were and if you have any grand Valentine’s Day plans. (Flowers? Chocolates? Promises you don’t intend to keep?) Make you feel like you’re part of the blog. Because you are, Gentle Readers. THE MOST IMPORTANT PART. Well, maybe not the most important part–I mean, let’s face it, if I weren’t here, there wouldn’t be a blog at all. I mean, not this blog. So maybe I’m the most important part, technically, but nevertheless, YOU ARE THE SECOND MOST IMPORTANT PART. I mean that. Happy Valentine’s Day, amigos! Let love rule!