May 5, 2006
Chicago, Illinois / Berkeley, California
I guess my day started normally enough. I got up, woke the kids, fed the dog, and made breakfast. Scooter joined us at the table, said grace, quickly downed a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, then kissed the kids and me goodbye before bolting for the door, late as usual. While the kids brushed their teeth, I cleaned up the dishes while keeping an eye on the clock. I vowed to myself that we would all start getting up 15 minutes earlier so we could enjoy more time together without having to be so rushed. Sure!
Fifteen minutes later, I waved goodbye to the twins as the KinderCare preschool van pulled away. I reflected upon the day's schedule: nail appointment at 9:00, the Orkin man coming by at 11:30, lunch with the girls at 12:30, a volunteer meeting at GOP headquarters downtown at 3:00, and then home to meet the kids' van by 4:10. Whew! After reading a few Psalms, I jumped into my new Escalade (love it!) and headed for my nail appointment.
Patty's been doing my nails ever since we moved to Chicago and we've become great friends. She always has something to say about the state of the world, and today was no exception. "Did you see on TV that commie whack-job Cindy Sheehan is back protesting outside of the president's ranch? It's absolutely incredible that anyone would listen to that woman. What's happened to this country?" That was my cue to reassure her that the whole country isn't spinning out of control, that the ACLU and Ted Kennedy are not on the verge of closing down the churches, and that the Cindy Sheehans of the world are not taking control.
After my usual words of comfort, Patty did something I found strange: she put down the emery board, took both my hands, and leaning in close, whispered, "I fine you muy sexy." Not believing what I thought I heard, I asked her, "What did you say, again?" She said, "I fine you so sexy, I can' help myself from wanting you." Her breath smelled like a burnt bush doused in tequila, and I noticed she was unusually tan and sweaty. I stammered, "Patty, don't..." but she held my hands tight and leaned in to kiss me. Oh crap, I had to do something!
With all my strength I pulled my hands free, grabbed my purse, and swung it as hard as I could, catching Pepe on the side of his face. With a thud he flew backwards into the coffee table, sending the tequila, glasses, and bong flying everywhere. Once I realized where I was, I broke down in tears of happiness, knowing it had all been an awful nightmare. However, I was still pissed that Pepe tried to put the moves on me, but the severe concussion he suffered was probably payback enough.
I feel like one of those people who had a near-death experience, only to be given another chance at life. I am more determined than ever to rid this country of the conservative disease that this administration has created. Also,I'm definitely not drinking tequila any more with Pepe.
Thanks to: The Owners Manual