Fairy God Uncle

It started right before the big trip, another round of ghostly computer flakiness that had me contemplating hiring a technoexorcist (hey, I can Google anything). This time, the poltergeist upped the ante and sent out electrical shockwaves that fried not 1, but 2 perfectly serviceable monitors inside of 5 minutes. Now, you try telling your fresh out for the summer, already affecting a slight air of boredom, prone to drama 5 year old that he can’t play his precious Curious George computer game the next day, robbing you of the 12 minutes of quiet you get in a day. Yeah, I thought so. Replaced.

When we got back from the trip (a lovely thing, but not exactly income friendly), I decided to wash the dinner dishes in the dishwasher. I’m crazy like that. Only the dishwasher had other plans. Such as impersonating a rock. Now, I had just returned from spending 10 days with my aunt, who has neither a dishwasher nor a disposal and ends up feeding all of us (and then some) almost every night. So I had had just about enough of manual dish detail, thankyouverymuch. And thus they joy of appliance shopping, which ends with writing a big check.

That taken care of, we head into the heat of the summer, and by that I mean the return of 100+ degree temperatures that are the hellish norm around her, despite a short deviation into an unusual monsoon season. Just as things got nice and sweaty (not in a good way), the air conditioner started making noises. And louder, scary noises. In the middle of the night. Followed by powerful blowing of lukewarm air into the house. I’m sure that air was conditioned in some way, but it just wasn’t cool. I don’t exactly feel like braising my children in their own home, so- you guessed it – come on down AC guy and get your REALLY big check. Sigh.

Did I mention that while on vacation, my cousin who so graciously lodged all 4 of us without so much as a flinch or a grimace, left for work one morning, somehow forgot we were there (I have no clue how, since you can hear us in the next county), and backed right into our car. Thank goodness for insurance, sparing me yet another big check, but, man, enough with the stress or I’ll soon be writing about the evils on my health insurance coverage.

Sammy’s birthday is next month, the very same week he starts kindergarten. I’m sure he’s hoping to get something other than fresh air and water for the big occasion, and to wear pants that actually cover his ankles when he meets his new teacher. Oh, if only there were some beloved relative who’s come into a giant mountain of money that could make his wishes come true. Maybe a saintly, talented, incredibly handsome uncle whom the children adore beyond measure who just so happened to have a huge wad of cash dropped on him. Oh, I can only wish (as I cry over my bank statement)…

By the way, hey Uncle Larry, congratulations in the big win at the casino last week. I’ll bet that was a lot of fun. I sure don’t have that kind of luck.

(Random shot of cute kids, just for the heck of it.)