I Think Ma Needs a Sitter

Hey ya'll. First, I want to apologize for not getting a picture of the patriotic bedazzled Crocs. Ma took the Hee-Haw County Weekly and fled to her bedroom with it right after I got home. Gawd forbid someone's meth lab get raided and she not be the first to know about it. Just imagine red and blue Crocs with little flag shaped button thingies glued all over them.

Speaking of Ma, she was full of piss and vinegar last night, positively giddy with gossip from her former inlaws. Apparently my dear old dad's much younger wife, whom he left Ma for 29 years ago and I had the pleasure *cough* of meeting at Mamaw's funeral, done went and divorced his skanky hind end and took everything he owned.

What comes around...

I laughed too until it dawned on me that his losing everything in the divorce had probably just erased any sliver of a chance I'd ever had of getting any inheritance.

Okay, there wasn't much of a chance, but there was a tiny one, guilt money if nothing else.

Now I worry that he'll decide to move back here, but I'll deal with that when and if the time comes.

Anywho, that wasn't the only thing that had Ma all wound up last night. Apparently she and Aunt Moses got their hands on a can of Fix-a-Flat and between the two of them, managed to get the hippy van mobile again. They took off on a madcap tour of Frog Pond Holler (at a whopping 20mph, I'm sure) only to end up running out of gas (nearly) in front of the Grab n' Go (and go and go) within sight of the house. They were able to get it cranked long enough to limp and lurch to the fillin' station, where they pooled their quarters to get enough gas to make it back home.

Have mercy.

Here at the Asylum, things are getting a little touchy. I predict another major meltdown within a couple of weeks. Bubbles keeps trying to instigate, I keep sitting at my desk muttering "I will not engage.. must not engage." There's a part of me that wants jump up from here and bitch slap her ignant hiney clear down to the river, but I refuse to react. I just smile and say, "Bless your heart."

Thelma and Louise are absolutely beside themselves because they've been assigned the lowly task of bagging up bolt kits. Management rolled the bolt cart in to their office, saying they seemed to have plenty of time to sit and yack, they may as well be productive while they do it.

Somehow this is mine and Lulu's fault. For reasons unknown, we've become extremely unpopular since it happened.

Ah well, at least it's exciting around here.