Great Balls of Dog Hair, this blog is so much work. Really. Like right now, at 6:37 am on a Saturday morning, all I want to do is scroll through Facebook and read about how John Travolta is gay, and I’m stuck here with a blank screen trying to come up with something funny/poignant/revealing/life-altering to say. JUST FOR YOU.
I started to write a play about the Olympics-watching scene in the My Left Hook family room last night – THERE’S NO ROOM ON THE COUCH FOR ME! I WANT SOME PANCAKES! SHE’S MAKING MEAN FACES AT ME! CAN I HAVE SOME FRUIT PUNCH? HONEY, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD HAUL YOURSELF OUT OF THE ORANGE CHAIR AND HELP ME? NO. – but honestly, that seems too hard.
Then I thought about writing about my own (non-Olympiad) sports career playing basketball and volleyball for Sacred Heart. Remember? Mascot: the Rosary. But that just makes me sad because I totally could have been a contender if not for the demented Mr. R, our numnut coach who in true Catholic spirit drummed out my self-esteem until I felt like a limp dented flagpole tilting on the court. And Mr. R? If you’re still alive? Come see my serve now, sucker.
Finally, I considered telling you about our 6-hour visit yesterday to the Adventure Landing water park, where the Pterodactyl finally conquered his fear of the Big Yellow Slide and I observed the eclectic artistry in all 4,000 tattoos on display, many of them highlighted by vast stretches of hairy canvases.
But that reminded me that I never told you about my own tattoo embellishment. Can you believe that? I forgot!
To recap: Last year, I got my first tattoo – the words I love you; I love you; forever, written in Vietnamese, Spanish and French – on the inside of my right wrist. It’s very cool! My son has finally stopped trying to scrape it off with his fingernails.
I always intended to add some sort of ocean-like element, and earlier this month, I did. My trusted tattoo artist (Hee hee! I love saying my tattoo artist!) penned some blue waves around the words. I almost added a little fish, but the fish I designed looked like a Goldfish snack, and the one he designed looked like a shark. So we’ll wait on that. Maybe a jellyfish? A turtle? An amoeba?
Anyway, I just thought that in the spirit of full disclosure, I should tell you about this new addition, and now you know. Plus, my screen is no longer blank, you can go make another cup of coffee, and I can go back to whatever it is I do on Saturdays. Seriously, John? You’ve always been gay? I guess this explains Hairspray, though.