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They say it’s your birthday; we’re gonna have a good time.

I know, I’m days and days and DAYS behind, but I’m back home and the weekend is over and now I will not be going to no-internet-land until probably Christmas. That’s probably good, because no-internet is tough. YES, because I miss all of your faces; but also because it just took me almost 5 hours today to catch up on all of the things I missed that I had to do all weekend. Blog-reading and comment-replying and approving and ZOMG, do I get a lot of emails in a day that need to be replied to! Not in a “UGH ALL THESE RESPONSIBILITIES!” way at all, but I have a lot of things I do. Theater things and book things and friend things and blog things and, well, I guess life things.

The only site I could get to load on my parents’ dialup this weekend was my email. Even that would freeze sometimes. But I did eventually get that to work for the things that I really, really, really wanted to respond to in a timely fashion. I tried Facebook; nope. I tried Twitter; it would randomly load about 10 tweets from my timeline, but I couldn’t respond to any of them. I couldn’t see my mentions tab, not that it would matter, as I couldn’t respond to them anyway. I could randomly see whatever tweets had just happened when the computer decided to load them. I couldn’t load my blog at all so comments were NOT ALLOWED TO BE APPROVED. I was one cranky mama. Luckily, people emailed me which kept me somewhat sane. Thank you, people who emailed me to keep me somewhat sane. My dad was all, “That’s how the internet WORKS” and I was like, “NO NO NO DAD NOT THE REAL INTERNET GAH.”

I saw this kind of thing a lot this weekend. I know, it’s giving you flashbacks to the 90s, right? This is what my parents HAVE for internet. It is INSANE.

HOWEVER. In news of excitement: I got a photo of the next-to-last edit of what my book cover will look like. It should be completely done very soon and I can share it with you. It took an hour and a half to download the image with the dialup, but I finally got to see it, and then I swirled around in my dad’s office chair and said, “That is MY BOOK COVER. With MY NAME ON IT. And MY PHOTO. It is the MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER. Well, after The Nephew, who is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. FINE. It is the SECOND MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER. Because I made that.” Then I giggled and I cannot deny that I might have cried a little. I can’t wait for you all to see it. I am so, so proud of it. (Well, the whole book, not just the cover, but man, wait until you see the cover. Just wait until you see it. It is AMAZING.)

Let’s see. Dad’s class reunion: totally unremarkable. Super Sarah was quiet and behaved herself (although he did say people told him she was badmouthing him all around the room; I told him he should have said, loudly, “Well, THAT’S not very Christian; what would Spaceship Jesus say about THAT?”) He was apparently the life of the party (I had no doubt; when Dad and I want to be social, we’re very good at it, we just don’t want to do it very often. It’s EXHAUSTING) and he seemed to have a nice time. Just not a very DRAMATIC time. Or a very BLOGWORTHY time. Oh, well. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Super Sarah. SIGH.

Dear Spaceship Jesus, please make Amy’s Dad stop being such a meanie-meanie-mean-pants. Love, Super Sarah.

Then we visited my grandmother and my uncle, and we chatted for a little while, and then it was party-time. The Nephew was adorable and very excited and ran around like a little lightning bolt and shot everyone with bubble-guns and ate food and cake and opened a present and then went swimming. He opened the rest of his presents at home, so I didn’t see him open mine, but his mom sent me a photo of him playing with his euphemism-laden Chuggington and apparently he loved it. So, yay! Win! He was very busy, so I didn’t get to see him much, but I did get to sit with him while he ate his cake. He told me funny stories, like the Oreo cookie “dirt” on his cake was REAL dirt and then he laughed and laughed when I reacted with mock horror and said, “You’re eating REAL DIRT? That can’t be good for you!” Then he pretended to be choking to death when he realized it terrified me. Nice, kiddo, way to give me a heart attack. I was all, “Are you ok? ARE YOU OK KIDDO?” and he was like “Hee hee, NO, I am CHOKING” and I seriously didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So I decided the best reaction was to say very seriously, “Don’t pretend to choke, buddy, or someday when you’re really choking, someone will think you’re kidding and not know to save you!” and then laugh a little behind my hand at his very advanced joke when he wasn’t looking so he didn’t know I wasn’t taking it as seriously as I should. Well-played, me.

If you pretend you are choking, no one will know to do this for you. NO ONE. Remember that, The Nephew!

He also got a blow-up dolphin pool float and needed someone to blow it up, and no one wanted to do that so they were all, “Um, yeah, ha ha” and then went back to chatting or whatever and he looked SO SAD because listen, that sucker needed a tire pump, it was HUGE, but who loves her nephew the most? Me. So I blew up the dolphin pool float. It had THREE PARTS. With THREE SEPARATE BLOWUP PLACES. Dad helped a little when I started turning purple and blew up the middle part. It was totally worth it when we were done and The Nephew looked at it and said, “Dolphins! Ha!” and laughed for the longest time. (Things are super-funny when you’re a wee one. I like that a lot. There’s a lot of whimsy in life when you’ve just turned three.)

This is the EXACT pool toy The Nephew got. It’s a lot bigger than it looks.

Oh, you probably want photos. I suck. I took ONE PHOTO. I know! There were always people around him, and also I never pull out the camera like I should. But, here, here’s the one photo I took. It is kind of the suck.

This is the nephew right before he blew out his candles. Notice the little pout. I’m not sure what that’s all about, but I love it to distraction.

Then we went home, and I probably should have come back to my land of internet then, but I was SO TIRED. So I lazed around on the couch for a long time, and then we had dinner and watched The Help because there are very few movies my mom doesn’t object to because they are dirty for one reason or another and this one was ok because she read the book and liked it a lot (my thoughts? liked the book better, the movie was fine, Emma Stone is my total girl-crush, it was beautifully filmed) and then I went to bed so I could get up early to drive back. Which I did, and the drive home was uneventful and not too hot – warm, but manageable. THERE. Now I am home, and whew! Internet and Dumbcat and cable (which is not constantly tuned to either Fox News or the Tour de France) and air conditioning and SIGH. Nice, nice, nice. (Oh, Dumbcat was not PLEASED I was gone, but he was not completely glued to my leg when I walked in, and has been very content to sleep next to me all day without constantly yowling the whole day, so either 48 hours doesn’t send him in a tizzy, or he’s getting over the crazy. I’m going to say it’s probably the former and not the latter. I think the crazy runs pretty deep in this kitty.)

Isn’t she adorable? Total girl-crush.

OH! Speaking of cats, who’s the total cat-whisperer? Me. The Nephew’s mom has two cats that are recent so this was my first time seeing them. One is a lovely tortoiseshell (I love tortoiseshell cats, my cat that just passed away was a torti and I think they’re beautiful) and the other is a long-haired gray cat. The torti is very friendly and meowed and meowed and wanted all the petting, which I of course gave. The gray cat came out and I made “come here cat!” noises and bent down and at first Gray Cat (I am not sure of Gray Cat’s gender, and of COURSE Gray Cat’s name is not Gray Cat, everyone gets an alias here at Lucy’s Football!) was all “NOPE! That’s not happening” but then Gray Cat came closer and let me pet his/her head a little before skittering away. When I got up, The Nephew’s mom was all wide-eyed and I said, “Oh, what…?” and apparently, Gray Cat does NOT let anyone touch him or her. I AM THE CAT WHISPERER! I mean, though, we totally all knew that though. I am VERY GOOD with animals. More so than people. So I won over Gray Cat. WINNER!

Oh, look, there’s a BOOK about me and my cat-whispering ways! Look at THAT!

So there was my weekend. Now I am home, and will concentrate on all the things I have upcoming, which are: a play I’m working on next weekend, all the blogging, all the reading, and my book coming out on August 1. Eee! Are we all so excited? WE TOTALLY ARE. Yippee! I am going to see Gillian Welch tonight at The Egg, which will be the most fun and my seats aren’t even all that awful, so that’ll be great, too. YAY FOR ADVENTURING. Happy weekend, everyone!

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About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

8 responses to “They say it’s your birthday; we’re gonna have a good time.

  • jbrown3079

    Getting a laugh from a kid is really one of the best things ever. You don’t have to overthink it. Just make a funny noise or make up some silly peekaboo game. Now that our grandson is walking, he likes running behind a door and waiting to be found. Of course, if you sound real confused about where he is the squeals of laughter give it away.

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    • lucysfootball

      I totally agree. Him laughing is the best thing. I was telling my dad that this weekend. It’s nice to make an adult laugh – especially if you have to work at it, you feel like it’s an accomplishment – but making a kid you love laugh? That’s one of the most beautiful noises in the world, it really is.

      Like

  • mylifeisthebestlife

    The Nephew is too cute!

    I haven’t seen The Help, but I loved the book. Although, I’m sure, not as much as I will love YOUR book.

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  • sj

    Yay for Cat Whispering! Yay!

    Also, I’m sad you didn’t get to see the Nephew opening his presents, but I’m very happy that he loved them.

    Also, I HATE when people give our kids things that need to be blown up. [sigh] The worst.

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    • lucysfootball

      It was my own fault, the blowing-up. I couldn’t deal with seeing his little sad-face. Other people were smart and were all “nuh-uh.” I couldn’t! That little sad hopeful face! So adorable! He wanted the dolphins! Aw.

      Like

  • Handflapper

    It’s entirely possible that you love The Nephew even more than I love the Hellbaby. I don’t know if this is because The Nephew is more awesome than Hellbaby, but I suspect it’s more likely because of your limited exposure to The Nephew. I mean, I’m around Hellbaby all! the! time!, and I have more opportunities to witness her being Not at Her Best, and also plenty opportunities to experience her More Annoying Qualities, like her pinching, and flinging herself backward when she doesn’t get what she wants, and oh! the headbutting when she is in the throes of a Very Angry Fit. And while these things don’t make me love her less, over time they do have a tendency to wear on my nerves just a little.

    I don’t dispute your self-anointed title of Best Aunt Ever, but I might could give you a run for Cat Whisperer. All cats love me, even the ones I’m not that crazy about. A blessing AND a curse.

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    • lucysfootball

      That could be it. My parents (and his) swear I wouldn’t be so head-over-heels with everything about him if I saw him all the time. I don’t know if that’s true. I guess if it is, it’s the only good thing about not seeing him very often. As it is, even things that people find annoying I think are adorable. Like wee temper tantrums and screaming for no reason and stomping and pouting and headbutting and refusal to do things that he needs to, like sleep, go to the bathroom, or eat at a regular time. (Most of these things are things *I* do, so I chalk them up to heredity. Heh. Well, except for bathroom. I’m very good at knowing when I need to pee.)

      We are cat whisperers! It’s exciting, right? We should find a way to market this. Ooh, let’s have a TV show! People would watch that! Crazy cat ladies watch a LOT of tv!

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