Editor’s note this was originally supposed to post Friday, April 10th but Time Warner Cable SUCKS.
I informed Hammy this morning that today was going to be a big day. The blonde bomber would be home this evening and our Reds would start a series with the hated St. Louis Cardinals. Our beloved Reds have started the season 3-0 and Hammy is sending wire telegraphs out to his mother Russia proclaiming he turned a whole Major League Baseball franchise into double agents. I have mentioned Hammy has a drinking problem right? When Sloane and I arrived home after softball practice tonight Hammy somehow got on the internet again today and had printed incriminating photos of cardinals doing wickedly evil things that he said he was going to use against them. When I explained to him birds like to poo on windshields 20 minutes after having your vehicle washed and it’s not stealing when humans willingly put out bird feeders he muttered something under his breath about “crazy Americans” they don’t feed hamsters in Russia. He’s taken to voodoo now to make sure the Cardinals lose tonight. Has anybody else housed a baseball zealous KGB double agent hamster and lived to tell about it? I’m open for any advice.
Softball practice was in a word awesome tonight. It was just a hitting session for 45 minutes and then a seven-eight year old girls pizza party. I haven’t seen Sloane have that much fun in quite a long time. Plus free dinner, free is good right? All the calories she ate from pizza she had to burn off and then some on the playground. Her coach is great, after pizza it was twenty minutes of mass mayhem of various games of tag. Her coach was right in there with all of them, Sloane wouldn’t quit going on about how awesome he and his assistant coach are on the way home tonight. Plus ran into a friend at the playground myself and we had some laughs at others expense and hearing her compliment Sloane the way she did tells me I’m doing something right in the fathering department.
“Tell your dad to wash them” is what I was told this evening. I don’t know if this statement is true or not so I’m not going to go Django: Unchained on the ex…yet. Little miss wonderful can be conniving (hmm where did she get that from) but after unpacking Sloane’s travel bag this evening and the absolutely putrid smell of her blankets I asked her why she hasn’t told her mom to wash her blankets. By putrid I’m talking dead skunk laying in Death Valley in July after rubbing itself all over with a deceased fish. Gross, she’s sleeping with the blanket and comforter I keep here for her and going to rough it without her regular throw blankets because they are that frigging nasty. I try to wash them every weekend I have her, last weekend was a curve ball because of the holiday and schedules. My beloved Suebee sheds like any normal Siberian husky does, but my daughter shouldn’t have to sleep with blankets lathered in white dog hair, cat piss (I guess), and just FUNK. It’s nasty, but that house did pass a full scale CPS (Child Protective Services) after a 24 hour notice. I’m sure if CPS caught a whiff of her blankets tonight they would re-think that decision. CPS is actually a joke in my sector of the world. They gave a passing grade to a house that is mold riddled, has a furnace covered in asbestos, and a roof that leaks when it rains. I love government agencies they run so efficiently.
About it for the night I’ve got extra laundry to do now and Hammy is plucking feathers off of a bird yelling “Go Reds” at the top of his lungs!