I’m hoping Woody Harrelson gets wind of this site!
So goes another janitorial weekend for me and my little princess. Per the Skipah Manifesto, we made sure to live by rule number one and “have fun.” She’s come and gone out my life again quickly and left me smiling from ear to ear. Miss Madison had one of her biggest professional achievements this weekend, so both the special ladies in my life have me floating on air. Since I own the internet tonight because I’m one of six people left on the planet that doesn’t watch Game of Thrones, let’s recap shall we?
After another trip through the not-so-mighty commonwealth of Kentucky dodging idiots, orange barrels, and the occasional Billy Jack, I secured possession of the blonde bomber Friday evening. Nothing says true love like the truck stop pick up for custodial weekend. Me and two other miserable chumps were all sitting there discussing our golf handicaps and the many missed kid moments due to the system when my little bundle of joy finally arrived. She was two minutes late, which is fine with me. Now if the roles were reversed, I’m sure a court summons would hit my doorstep by Tuesday morning.
The joys of construction laden Louisville, 30 minute drives take well over an hour!
First stop was dinner with Miss Madison and company at a local establishment of fine dining or the Ponderosa. “The Pondo,” as the locals like to call it, was Sloane’s culinary choice of Americana Friday night, so off we went. One thing I’ve learned since moving to Madison, Indiana is this place is a modern day Mayberry! Since I’m dating a local celebrity (more on that to come), it seems we can’t so much as walk out the front door and the paparazzi are hounding us. I might be stretching that a little bit, but it never fails we will run into someone from her academic circles that is just thrilled to meet me, this mysterious man of mystery that turned Miss Madison’s frown upside down. My only retort is, “I want to meet him too.” The kids ate just barely enough until they could go tackle the soft serve ice cream machine like a pack of hyenas circling a junior water buffalo, and the rest of the evening was spent living it up Flintstones style having a “gay old time.”
I was told if Miss Madison loses that smile I’m getting offered up to a pig farmer!
I don’t think this was the “warm, glowing feeling” her contemporary was talking about!
Saturday, Miss Madison had to put the finishing touches on her yearlong project with her 8th graders surveying and researching a centuries old cemetery in the area. Pretty soon, if you’re ever Googling Smyrna Cemetery (and why wouldn’t you be), you may thank Miss Madison and her 2015-2016 8th grade class for being able to find a database online. We had to accompany her for some final measurements and to cross a few I’s and dot a few T’s. Just in case I do ever have to hide a body, I did check the map for any future plots (for when I nab Pepe Le Pew who has been running wild in our yard).
I had a stake in hand in case the Zombie Apocalypse suddenly began!
After fighting off a group of whackos that practice in the art of necrophilia, the Skipah’s Travelling Road Show was headed off to my original sector of the planet in Southern Indiana. Vacation destination New Albany, Indiana was our next stop for a kick ass party with friends to celebrate the biggest fireworks show on earth.
Long lost Cousin Charlie’s secret bbq sauce with meatballs and some triple chocolate chip cookies were on tap for this weekend.
I don’t say much positive about Kentucky, but when it comes to the Kentucky Derby and the events leading up to it, they are second to none! Thunder Over Louisville kicked off the Derby festivities Saturday night with what is billed as the largest firework show on earth. Thirty minutes of pyrotechnics that would make even the most hardened of curmudgeons applaud. Our friends live on a hilltop close to the Ohio River, so we got to take it all in without fighting the 750,000 (that’s a real number) patrons that took advantage of weather that would have made San Diegoans jealous. Sloane and the whole gang had an absolute blast, and she even got to shoot some more hoops with her tomato-headed little buddy from last year. The turtle man and Miss Madison Jr. were eating it up like someone that just got introduced to sushi. All in all, great times and now Sloane’s pissed, because she won’t get to see the balloon glow next weekend like she did last year. I informed her she has two parents, just ask, even my daughter gave me an eye roll on that statement. Oh, she knows, she’s practically an adult minus the puberty, dating, and bra shopping. Thankfully, I’ve got a few more years before I have to worry about that!
Fun times this weekend!
Sunday, Miss Madison was doing her cemetery/genealogy magic, and nailed it I must say (newspaper article will be posted on this website when it hits newsstands in a couple of days). This won’t be her first rodeo either, hopefully this time she name-dropped her favorite blogger’s website. Be looking for some extra traffic, Christina! Sloane and I once again headed back to our roots so she could get in a little grandma time.
The last time she saw my mom, David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Merle Haggard, & Prince were still breathing members of society. Yeah, it’s been that long! Hard to fit in any grandma time when my time is all of four days a month, and you can basically chalk a quarter of that time spent driving. While they were celebrating their own personal Pebbles time, I had a little too much free time to reflect.
I’m a pretty happy guy these days: My professional life is solid, this website has grown leaps and bounds the past month (although I read a blogger from Philadelphia is pulling down $3,000 a month, need to get Hammy on this pronto), I’ve got the coolest and one of the most intelligent people on the planet in Miss Madison, and I’ve got a daughter that is still pissed and confused as to why she only gets to experience a loving household where everybody is involved twice a month.
I hate it for her, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it yet! On top of it, she has no male figure in her life other than me part time. I’m talking the good and the bad when it comes to being a parent. Yeah, I’ll wax poetic on here and even plan on writing a book about my experiences, but, let’s be honest, sometimes kids need a knot jerked in their ass when it comes to behavior. Sloane is no different, and I literally have to spend half my time on any given weekend correcting a bunch of things with her that shouldn’t even be an issue. She literally is my mini-me in intelligence and wit, just need to reign that stuff in with her sometimes.
Again, I’ll blame this on a stupid system, a lazy ass stepdad (dude, seriously go for a walk with the family every now and again, my daughter takes notes), and greedy lawyers! Even tonight on the ride home, I can just see the inevitable sulk in her shoulders that she knows it is back to prison for two weeks until she gets to be herself again. This is how much she adores her dad time: She had softball practice Saturday morning 90 minutes from here, I offered to take her, actually even wanted to take her, but she didn’t want to give up what would have been roughly four hours of our time driving and the actual practice itself. She’s freaking eight years old, I don’t want her to have to think like this!
About it for tonight, another hall of fame weekend, and another reason #MyBabyTooBill better get to the Indiana state floor. Time to start the countdown until the next weekend we are together, which coincidentally is Derby weekend! Hammy is already studying the Daily Racing Forum like he’s updating his HotHamsters.com profile.