Look who scheduled a blog post? Me, that’s who! Was working on some other stuff this evening and by the time I got around to writing for the night it was much too late in Skipah land for the much anticipated world wide release of my random craziness and other ramblings.
I’m not sure if Hammy is training for the Olympics or a 4K run but lately he’s been hitting his wheel like he’s planning some kind of master escape or he’s just pumped the Reds have beaten the Brewers two straight games. He even asked if I would take some money out of his commissary and put a little action on a couple of Derby horses he’s been eyeballing in his nightly reading. I reminded him that his commissary is actually my daughter’s “buy another hamster” fund so suck it up buttercup and keep training. Rumor is the Syrian coming to live with us soon has ties back to ISIS so you better sharpen up your KGB skills and lay off the vodka for a while. Meh, was all he could come up with and then bragged he gets to watch the Reds tomorrow while I’m at work (day game), I countered that Sloane will be home tomorrow and it’s cage cleaning time so get ready for the weekly mauling while your digs become sanitary again. FYI, hamsters shit a LOT!
Tonight my lawn mower become more stubborn than my ex-wife (hard to believe I know), after fighting with it for two days and watching my dandelion forest grow up before my eyes I took matters into my own hands. I hate dandelions, when I had my own house it was a personal war between those yellow bastards and a zillion dollars in lawn care products every year. Thankfully I own a bad ass weed eater (hey you Echo rep reading this that’s called a free plug I believe in the Golden Rule by the way) and got to keep it in the divorce for a cake plate, some fluted glasses, and a washer and dryer. Best I can recollect that’s what went down. I manned up and used the weed eater to “mow” my yard. My yard takes about 30 minutes to mow you can and another 30 if I ever have to do that again. By the time I was done my forearm would have made Popeye jealous. Luckily Olive Oyl wasn’t around or I might have stolen his girl from him. So now I’m currently typing this with my teeth still chattering and my forearm wrap in a compression sleeve (just kidding I’m fine now) and mental note contact my small engine repair friend to fix my damn mower!
There will be no Great Steamboat Race tomorrow as me being the idiot I am I should check my schedule before blogging about taking my daughter to an event that she can’t remotely attend. We’ve got softball tomorrow night! The heavens have blessed us with an awesome week of weather and we have a game tomorrow and another one on Thursday so the first week of my unplanned and unwanted away time from Sloane is going smoothly. Hopefully the weather will continue to be pleasant and keep softball games from raining out as it will be the only time I really see Sloane except for Wednesday evenings this month and a couple of brief moments on a couple of Sundays this month. Not really what I would define as fair and I still think it was some secret under the table deal made between the Mother’s Day and Memorial Day committees to screw dads in Indiana. I think it’s only fair that Father’s Day weekend be in the same month as say Labor Day weekend! Plus that’s in September so add another day for me because it’s my birthday!
I’ll save that fight for another day when I’ve got a little more energy. Weed whacking has done me in and I’ve got a few other tasks to complete before I head off to check my eyelids for holes. Hopefully tomorrow I’m writing after another big win from the blonde bomber and she continues her streak of getting on base.