In five years, he’ll deny he ever said it

Scene:  My bathroom.  Sunday morning, 6:00 a.m.  We are leaving in 15 minutes for a 8:30 a.m. baseball game.

A:  I don’t want to wear this cup.  It sticks out too far.

Me:  I think it’s just the fly on those pants.  It’s thicker than the one on your old pants and sticks out more when you have on a cup.

A:  I don’t like it.  I’m not wearing it.

Me:  Why not?

A:  It makes my pen*s look big!

D:  And the problem is?

A:  I’m a LITTLE BOY, my pen*s shouldn’t look BIG.

Me:  Well, go get your other, crotch-shrinking, cup.

A:  I *will*.

As if there were any question. . .

Find out how totally 80’s are you at LiquidGeneration!

The Waiting Game

Thanks for the well wishes, everyone.  It means a lot.

My dad had his first dose of chemo yesterday and did great.  My mom said he wasn’t sick at all.  Let’s hope it stays that way.  They’re waiting (AGAIN with the waiting.  Ack!) for the Head Doogie to come in and do the chemo in the spine some time today.  They were going to get to go home tomorrow, but now they’re saying they want to do one more dose in the spine tomorrow and THEN send him home on Thursday.  Good heavens.

Luckily (?) (Is there a “luckily” with cancer?) he “only” has to have one dose of chemo every three weeks for four and a half months.  That should “take care of it.”  I hope so.

Again, thanks for all the thoughts and prayers, and keep ‘em coming!

Happy Birthday, dear Cancer

You’re one week old today.  Please die soon, ‘k?

My dad is impatiently waiting for an oncologist to either treat him or release him (for treament at home) today.  He had surgery on Friday to remove his testicle (where the lymphoma has been camping out, making itself at home) and did great with that.  He has “activity” in the lymph nodes in his groin, his abdomen, armpits, and neck.  All we know so far is that it is “B-cell Lymphoma” which the Doogies have said responds very well to chemo.  They were supposed to start the chemo Saturday, but do you know oncologists don’t work on weekends?  Sad, but true.

So my mom is up there, waiting on word as to whether they can go home today or have one treatment and then go home tomorrow or Wednesday.  Obviously, they want to go home today and do his treatments there. 

We could use any prayers you got, or good thought and well wishes if you don’t pray.

Things I have learned since my dad got cancer on Tuesday

• When you are at a large Jewish hospital and you get lost (oh, and you WILL get lost), you will find yourself having conversations with your brother that go like this:  “But you said SHOENBERG Pavilion, NOT STEINMAN Pavilion!  What?  SteinBERG?  There’s a SteinBERG?  Where’s Shoenberg?  Please don’t tell me there’s a Shoenman.”
• Teaching hospital=doctors that look like Doogie’s younger brothers.  I half expected them to text him with, “Dood! It’s in ur lymf nodes, killin ur cells.”
• I never knew much about my father’s genitals.  Now I know too much.  (Oh, and the next person who mentions Lance Armstrong?  Kick in the shins.)
• My mom is the strongest woman in the world.

Opponents Beware! Opponents Beware!

Happy Birthday, George!

Attack of the Fundies!

For your enjoyment (and my mortification) — here is a recruiting film from the college that I attended. As you can tell from the high hair and even higher jeans, it is c. 1988, blessedly after I graduated, so no chance of seeing me. Suckas!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFff_bV_8Jw&rel=1">

Part II

And Part III

Good lord. How did I turn out so normal?

This house just ain’t a home

. . .yet.

We spent the night for the first time in the new house last night. D took off work Monday and Tuesday and got the bulk of the stuff moved, and I came home last night and straightened stuff up and unpacked about a bazillion boxes while D and A watched American Idol. (I’m already sick of Fat Gay Jeffrey, btw.)

We won’t have Dish or phone service until Friday, but the payoff is high-speed internet so Huzzah! H is hella excited because high-speed internet = XBOXLIVEOMIGOD. We may never see him again.

Also, I’ve always wondered, while watching decorating shows, why people with big living room shove their furniture against the wall, leaving ballroom-sized space in the middle. Now I know: BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE THE OUTLETS ARE. We have no floor outlets in our living room, which means no table lamps. Gaaaaaaah.

No Country For Old Table Lamps

Have you ever seen the wind?

All things are fine here. There were some scary moments early due to the fact that D’s grandmother lives in Clinton, AR, which suffered a direct hit. She’s fine — only without power and a few trees. My MIL has a cousin who lives in Shirley, AR and they’ve had some minor damage. All in all we’re very lucky considering.

The damage in Atkins makes me sick to my stomach. We drive through there quite a bit on our way to baseball games and stuff, and it’s a lovely little town. Plus they make pickles!

And poor Jackson, TN. They just HAD a killer tornado like four or five years ago. Sheesh.

Sitting on Go

Um, we haven’t moved.

Our file has been hung up in underwriting due to the myriad of forms that have to be completed to satisfy the VA. As I mentioned the FFO thread (http://http://www.secondbreakfast.net/archives/004221.html) (Does anyone know how to get Blogger to text link?), the stuff they have asked for has been reDONKulous. An affidavit where D swears I am his wife? WTF?

Anyhoo. The entire file, plus a quart of blood and an eye of newt, is at the underwriters. We are impatiently waiting. I am taking off the next three days to pack, since I have not put one item we own in a box. Sisyphus ain’t got nothing on me.