A Wild Saturday Night, Casa Style


Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome to an exciting Saturday night in La Casa de Testosterone.

Once upon a time, when I was much, much, much, much (you get where this is going, right?) younger Saturday nights meant evenings out. Mind you, I was never really a wild party person, but there were times I went out to dinner and drinks and the like. Today, the cop and I got up at 5:30 a.m. so we could be at the Wild Boy's soccer games at the ass crack of dawn. We sat through two soccer games, had brunch, went grocery shopping and came home where we tried to nap but instead got up every 20 minutes to either pee or tell the boys to "KEEP IT DOWN - WE'RE NAPPING!!!" And now, while other people are prepping for late nights the cop is making homemade pizza sauce while I sit here typing, Gav crouches in what seems like a physically impossible yoga position on top of an exercise ball while telling me over his shoulder repeatedly how sad the ASPCA commercial on TV is, and Gabe runs around him in circles wearing a fedora and soccer uniform yelling "FIDGET SPINNER FIDGET SPINNER FIDGET SPINNER." Eat your hearts out, DINKers.

Oh, you don't know DINK? Dual income no kids families. Yeah, we have names for you people. Names that we can use without resorting to jealous obscenity when our kids are in earshot, chanting things like "GET OFF MY CASE BUZZARD FACE" which they find hysterical.  Yeah, we have names for you. But I digress.

Anyhow, as you have probably gathered, the biggest excitement so far in la Casa this evening is making faces with pizza toppings. At least for the Wild Boys. About 20 minutes ago Gavin scared the dog with a clown mask and she ran down our hallway peeing herself, which the cop and I got to clean up, so that was pretty entertaining. Originally we were going to be hosting friends for a birthday celebration, but their youngest child has a stomach flu. One that's been lingering since I stopped by the elementary school on Wednesday to drop off an inhaler and got to watch the principal run outside with a bucket to take care of a vomit emergency in the hallway. I didn't realize it was our friend's kid at that point, but in all honesty I doubt I could have helped with anything anyhow, because I'm a sympathy puker. Somehow I'm thinking cleaning up a kindergartner's puke, then the larger pile of my puke which may or may not have showered the kindergartner I was trying to help, would not have earned me many popularity points with the principal. Y'all know my kids, I cannot afford to have that woman as an enemy.

And now I get to type for all of you happy comrades. I had really big plans, to outline how amazing the Wild Boys are at soccer this year accompanied by my fantastic sports photography. But here's the thing - while my boys are awesome athletes (total parental bias, but deal with it peeps because I won't tell you otherwise), my photography skills suck.

It's epic, the degree of failure here.

I like to tell myself that the boys are just SO in to the sport that they make faces of extreme concentration, which is for whatever reason the only face I ever get pictures of...



In all honesty though, this is about 90% of the time with them. I'm not sure how they play with their eyes closed and their tongues out, but they somehow manage. I'd try to run cover for them, but like I said, I just spent a good chunk of my evening cleaning up Wild Boy induced dog panic pee, and I'm vindictive.

Soccer, in case you're wondering, was not bad at all. Both boys played hard and for once neither of them got any personal fouls. It was a proud moment for us as parents, since Gabe has a serious issue with slide tackling this year and Gavin hits like a freight train. To celebrate, the cop and I are now going to sit down to some homemade pizza and a fantastic Pinot. It's not going out, but do not for a minute think it will be dull.

And because one day my kids will find and read this blog, I'll post a couple of pictures of them being amazing. Maybe they'll treat me to a nicer retirement home when the time comes. I'm not holding my breath though.


 
 
That's our Saturday night, folks. Hope yours involves as much laughter and hugs as this one will, without any of the accompanying dog pee. Until next time!

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