All the things: Olympics, summer, libraries, hilarity

Did y'all know that (apparently many years ago) the USPS officially decreed that they would no longer put a comma between city and state on address labels? I did not know this, and recently, when a friend and I were drafting invites for a bridal shower we're hosting, I said "Doesn't there need to be a comma between City and State?" and she said, "Honey, the USPS stopped doing that decades ago. Librarians know these things."

And I was and remain appalled because that's just not right-like visually, that's just NUTS. I mean, I adopted the damn Oxford comma, but NO COMMA between City and State? Ain't no way. And so T looked it up for me, and fortunately this nonsense is ONLY a USPS thing, not a worldwide grammar thing, and I am just so grateful I could weep.

I just wanted to share that.

Anyway, tomorrow marks Day 1 of no camp but seemingly infinite time before school resumes, and the boys are sleeping in another fort that uses all of our kitchen table chairs (6) plus two TV trays and 90% of the sheets in our home plus sleeping bags, light sabers, glass water glasses and more.

I would say that this arrangement doesn't bode well for a restful tomorrow, but then again, does it really matter?! We have little planned. At least they fell asleep before I did so that I could tuck a pillow under each of their heads and make sure they weren't suffocating in their sleeping bags. 

Summer is starting to feel long. We've been sweating for a lifetime, and I've set a new record of pizza for dinner in any given week: 4 times. The me of ten years ago is quivering with vexation and perceived failure. The me of today is holding up a gold trophy bestowed upon Self for including multiple fruits and veggies alongside each and every pie.

In my defense, the pizzas came from four different places, including two gold star joints. We are now totally certain about which pizza sucks and which pizza doesn't. A+ in pizza study.

The Olympics were, by and large, delightful, but I cheered the closing ceremony tonight because I simply cannot stay up through the 11pm - 12am hour for even a single additional night. I'm 40 people; that time has passed. 

I believe that other than Ryan D'bag Lochte and his misguided posse, our athletes comported themselves in lovely fashion. Really, the Olympics is such a grand coming together of talent and sportsmanship. I love the Games. Until next time!

Do y'all know that during the past two weeks, a dream of mine has come true? My darling husband agreed that we could turn our formal living room (never used for that purpose) into a library!! As the incredible construction has taken place, Jack and I have been nerding out to beat sixty. We ordered a one million pound Oxford dictionary and were literally chagrined when it was not delivered yesterday as promised.

UNTIL a kindly neighbor who had received said tome walked it over, and we cheered. 

Literally. Look at Jack's face!

"Jack, do you want to look up the first word?" I asked, hoping he'd say no.

"Oh yes, Mom. I will look up.....Indonesia." 

What the hell? Why? I mean, great but where did that come from?

Anyway, if you don't know, Indonesia is part of the Malay archipelago. And so marked our foray into the kazillion page book, a tiny, tidy J eternally ticked by Indonesia. We have all taken a pact to mark our initial, IN THE NEATEST HANDWRITING POSSIBLE, by each and every word we look up forevermore.

I'm so thrilled with and proud of this new room that we will all love but especially Jack and me. Oliver's primary response so far has been, "I don't love the knobs you chose. Why couldn't you have gotten neon green ones?"

OMG, I feel SO lucky. We weren't really supposed to put anything on the shelves until Tuesday, but for the love of patience, we waited five whole days and the paint has simply got to be hard enough by now. It's going to be so much fun to fill these.

I love these little family traditions. They're the glue, really, the threads we weave together over the years that make family durable over time, even when times are tough. Like possibly the coming weeks.

We have also resurrected Pi Guy and Roach and the games we play with them.

Pi Guy, in case you've forgotten, is a wire man clothed in a Pi jumper and trousers that Jack made in art a couple years ago during his preoccupation with Pi. Periodically, he'll put Pi Guy somewhere ridiculous, like suspended from my shower head or from a shirt in my closet, and I'll counter by seating Pi Guy on Jack's toilet or hanging precipitously from his headboard. 

This is an utterly delightful game.

In true Oliver fashion, he plays this game with an entirely too realistic rubber roach that my aunt Renee sent him. She knew exactly how much Oliver would adore this roach, and adore it he does. I awoke recently to find said roach sitting on top of the water glass on my nightstand. I put roach on Ol's bathroom faucet. He tossed it onto my rug. 

revolting and, mercifully, fake

Tonight I made the boys dinner and then T made us dinner, and then he and I watched two episodes of The Americans (we are slightly obsessed), and now we're going to bed, and all is well. 

I cannot tell y'all how much I love okra. And shrimp. 

On figs and cats and torches and summer coming to a close

Tonight Jack convinced me to drill a small hole through a stick he'd found so that he could insert a match and light it, thus making an Olympic torch. As you may not be surprised to hear, a match burns pretty quickly, so "torch" was an ephemeral status.

"No, Mom, I've got it! We need gasoline!"

"No, Jack, we're not pouring gasoline into a handheld twig. Thank you. Goodnight."

"Moooooooooooom."

"No."

30 minutes later, T and I are presented with this.

Another 60 minutes later, I check on the children to find that both have drawn red marker and black ink pen beards on their faces and are wearing Italia hoodies. Oliver is drooling onto his pillow-whilst gnawing on corn last night, another top tooth dislodged and so he is now minus his front four which is really pretty significant- and Jack is still awake which does not bode well for tomorrow, the final day of camp.

The good thing about camp ending is that I do not have to pack another lunch until next summer.

The bad thing about camp ending is that camp is ending and we have three weeks left until school resumes. LAWD! SO MANY HOURS IN A DAY!

I will seek refuge in the Nut who continues to be adorably imperious and delightfully plump, and I will continue to encourage anyone listening to vote not only Donald Trump off our island but also Ryan Lochte. At least he hasn't resurrected his grill.

Today I admired and photographed figs and also cooked the boys a lovely dinner that required no more than three teeth to eat and then made a rainbow carrot and raisin salad. The evening light glows so becomingly this time of year; if you can avoid the mosquitan bandits out for all your blood, you will be rewarded with beautifully lit, no flash photos. 

As an added bonus tonight, I leave you with this truly HYSTERICAL Ode to Synchronized Swimming. 

D-to-the-feated

CVS has been texting me like a desperate ex for days: "Come get your prescription, Emil Gros. Come on!"

So I schlepped over there today and you'll be shocked to know that the prescription was not to be found. Seems it had been filled at another location. Swell. I love you, CVS, said no one ever.

***

I went to the market to get yet more food for carnivorous, apparently-always-starving children. I drove around the garage for 8 minutes, could not find a parking spot, and so attempted to leave before I was late to pick the boys up from camp. 

"That'll be $3."

"Um, no. I didn't even park."

"But you were here for more than 7 minutes."

"Because I was looking for a spot and I didn't find one and now I have to leave so I'm not late."

"$3"

"NO!"

"Ok."

***

A side table arrives, and I unpack it carefully. Atop the glass shelf is etched "TEMPERED GLASS." This idiotic label cannot be removed, and so when you place the shelf atop the table, you are reminded that your glass is TEMPERED each and every time you look at it. I packed it back up, called Customer Service, and UPS is picking this item up tomorrow.

I have no further words on this subject.

***

Apparently, the children drank Arse Juice at camp today and came home to act like hooligans. They spent half the afternoon naked, whooping and yelling about their Rebellion. 

I found clothes hanging from my closet light, 97 stuffed animals thrown over the stair balcony, Legos everywhere, and this. 

Who would dare do that to my boyfriend? 

Seriously, people, I was not amused this evening. I took away iPads and dessert, and later, Jack yelled that I was "SO unfair, and just because I've been a jerk does not mean that I shouldn't get to listen to my book on tape."

"Well, young man, indeed it means exactly that."

But he wore my shit down, y'all. Just grated at me until I was nothing more than a thin rind sitting behind a snowy pile of shredded Parmesan. And I had no more fucks left to give. And so I lost this one and hardly care. #sotired #Dfeated

***

And then there's this gem from the Republican National Confucktion in Cleveland. Mother of...

REALLY? No other colors available for elevator naming?