The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
7/5/10 The World Cup Causes Me Trouble: A One Sentence Memoir
Though I had an extremely long day of World Cup Imbibing (10 AM to Midnight) the day before Ian's kiddie birthday party, I thought I recovered nicely-- I got up early from Stacey and Ed's place in South Amboy and drove Stacey's stick shift car (not my forte) to Helmetta so I could get my car, and I was still home before 7 AM, and I immediately starting doing whatever my wife asked me to do-- I picked up the cake and balloons and juice boxes and other ingredients, I cleaned the kiddie pool, I straightened the back yard, and I attempted to fill water balloons-- but by the time the party rolled around I was dragging a bit, and I guess I wasn't as involved as I should have been, and mainly I talked to my friend Dom about a new book he was reading that sounded interesting (Flat Broke in the Free Market: How Globalization Fleeced the Working People) but any time Catherine asked for help I helped her and then later in the day when we were at the pool I jokingly mentioned to a friend that I had "failed" at Ian's kiddie party and she said, "Let me guess what happened . . . one of the parents there was a friend of yours that you hadn't talked to in a while and instead of helping your wife, who was running around like a madwoman, you sat and talked to your friend and had to be reminded by your wife to help out," and I said, "That's remarkably accurate, how did you know?" and she said, "Because my husband did the same thing and I said to him, 'Look asshole, if you want to talk to your fucking friend, then you call him up like an adult and you go meet him in a god-damned bar like a grown-up but right now you're going to help me with this party'" and I should mention that this is a friend who rarely uses profanity.
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A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.
2 comments:
OK, so you snuck this one in on me when I was off from work. Let me just say that I though you did a fabulous job at the party. And you picked up the pizzas too. We're Dads. We do what we're told to do. If she wanted you to manage the party, the kids would have been down at the park playing on the monkey bars instead of pin the tail on the donkey and find the coins in the pool.
i once drove stacey's stick shift and nearly stalled out across route 9 - and i mean ACROSS (about 2 and a half of the lanes) - ask her to write you a sentence about it...
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