for once, i wish i was older...

because then i could be a curmudgeon which would at least lend a certain legitimacy to my complaining...unfortunately, at my present age, i'm just a bitch...

really, i'd love nothing more than to sit down and share some clear soup with andy rooney and kvetch...

so i sign the boys up for baseball and they inform me that the duke has to TRY. OUT.

he's 8!

who makes an 8 year old try out for baseball?...this is america people!!...it's america's game or america's past time or some such trademarked slogan like that!...what's more american than baseball!?!...and they make kids try out!!??...

i thought you showed up with a glove and your hat and your eagerness and that was that!...no WONDER everyone else in the world hates us!!

i gently broke it to the duke that he would have to try out for the team...

and god bless him, he who hasn't played baseball in his life, you know what he said?

"oh...well, probably i'll make it...not to worry"

sigh...my boy...such an optimist and so confident...i just love that about him!

moving right along to my body...i know, nobody likes it when andy rooney talks about his body either...but i have to bitch because after a month of somewhat regular exercise and an assortment of other torturous yet healthy choices i have lost exactly nothing...nada...not one ounce...

and so what i have to say is this...my body better start kickin' in something!...a pound or two, that's all i ask...a little incentive, a little give...because pretty much i'm doing all the work and gettin' nothing in return...last time that happened it ended in divorce...

and while i can't divorce my body, well, i suppose if i had a sex change it would almost be like divorcing my body...i guess?...not that i want a sex change, though men do lose weight faster than women...

but, i digress...

no matter, my body had better start showin' me the love or all bets are off and i'm ditching it all and going for norm on cheers...i'm serious, let's see how my ass and my blood pressure like that!...ha!

moving right along, the bagger at the grocery store pissed me off yesterday and reminded me that i don't generally leave the house for this very reason, the german tuna can i drive won't let me in the trunk, and the rear tire needs more air blown in it than our current president just to get down the block...not that we have blocks out here in the middle of *nearly* nowhere (wall mart is moving in..."nowhere" is no longer...but that is a whole other bitch in and of itself)

there's more, as always...for instance, i could go into the boybarians' twice daily fight about who gets the "fancy" spoon or the "fancy" fork, but really i can't bear to go there right now unless i add a generous belt of whiskey to this already tepid coffee...suffice it to say it's a battle royale that is of such a petty and absurd nature it makes me wonder why i don't already have whiskey in my coffee...

on a much much MUCH happier note, tomorrow my beloved wingman turns five!!!...i am surprised it's happened so fast and yet it seems like he's always been here...

but you know what wingman turning five also means, and i must say this today as to not ruin tomorrow...wingman turning five also means we have had five years with george w. bush...i know, i know...it's, well it is what it is...let us mourn now and not speak of this tomorrow...

x.