Madhousewife: Princess Zurg, thank you for putting your book back on the shelf.

Princess Zurg: Without being asked!

Mister Bubby: Unlike me, you mean!

Mad: That’s right, you failed! You’re a failure!

MB: No, Mom, you’re a failure!

Mad: Your face is a failure!

MB: Your butt is a failure!

Mad: No, it’s not.

Sugar Daddy: Your mother’s butt is anything but a failure.

Mad: You see?

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Mad: We have the sheet music for the theme to The Greatest American Hero? Why was I not informed of this?

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Every Friday MB’s teacher sends home the Friday Folder, which contains all the graded classwork for the week, plus announcements and whatever other crap he thinks parents need to know. Each student is supposed to write a comment about the thing they liked best about that week. MB usually writes some smart aleck comment that I can barely read because his handwriting is so bad and he just shoves the paper under my nose so I can sign it (with my nose? no, but you know what I mean) on Monday morning before I’ve put my glasses on. Last Friday he wrote, “I enjoyed reading Hatchet. It’s a good adventure story and just seems to feed book hunger.” I’m glad I’m raising a boy who has no problem with cheesiness for the sake of cheekiness.

Do you have a problem with a blogger who will write a sentence like that last one? I think I might.

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So…what to talk about, my friends? I suppose I could tell you some family news. For the last several weeks Elvis has been involved with this basketball league through Special Olympics. Elvis has some mighty athletic skills but hardly any sense of strategy. I was wondering how a team sport would work out for someone like him. Well, on Saturday he had his first tournament. His played in four games. In the first game, his team scored a total of 14 points, of which Elvis scored 8. He has mad shooting skills, when he can get his hands on the ball, i.e. when he’s engaged enough in the game that he is looking at one of his teammates who might pass the ball to him.

Unfortunately, that first game just about exhausted his attention span. Or I guess it thoroughly exhausted it, because he didn’t score any points in his next three games. It is very unlike Elvis to shoot and miss. Not impossible, clearly, but very uncharacteristic of him. But I think after that first game he was just done. In one game he didn’t even get his hands on the ball once, and I’m not sure he cared. The important thing is that he had fun. Well, I should say the important thing is that he got some real game-playing experience while having fun. Next year, I hope, he will have developed some ball awareness so that he can totally own those other disabled kids.

Did that come off as irreverent or just mean? Either way, I was just kidding. (Sort of.)

Anyway, that was some fun.

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What else can I tell you? I guess not much. I will confess that I had a Carl’s Jr. hamburger for lunch today. The housekeepers actually came right before I put Girlfriend on the kindergarten bus. That was weird, because it was so convenient. I suppose I should have gone and had lunch someplace nice, but I was in the mood for a hamburger. It’s a PMS thing. Anyway. One thing I enjoy about the Carl’s Jr. is that there’s a very friendly and professional young man who works there–and don’t get all OH REALLY??? like it’s some studly burger flipper/bored housewife thing because that’s not it at all. We don’t have a special relationship or anything. He treats me the same way he treats the other customers. He always says “sir” or “ma’am” and makes eye contact and really seems to care whether or not you’re enjoying your sandwich and how many packets of ketchup you would like.

I don’t kid myself that it’s genuine. I have no idea whether or not it’s genuine. I mean, it may well be, but if it weren’t, I think I’d be even more impressed. Because that’s the kind of talent that will take a person far in life. Maybe he’ll be president someday.

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My six-year-old informs me that she would like a crack at this screen-amusement thing, and being that my (new) laptop is still the only working computer in the home, I guess it’s only fair that I give her a turn. Or maybe I just have other things I should be doing. Or maybe I’ve just run out of things to write about. COINCIDENCE?

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