Open Letter to a Big Fat Party Pooper

Dear Ernesto,

I don't know what your long-range plans are, exactly, but I'll tell you this much: My plans, as I mentioned earlier this week, involve golfing and frolicking in the sea starting on Tuesday and for the 4 following days. While I do understand that as a large and burly storm, you need to flex your muscles, I want you to know that if you pull a stunt such as remaining stationary and hanging around the Delaware coast for several days, I will seriously kick your butt.

Best regards,

Berry

Hey Kyra.... shut up!

Oh boy. I'd love to see what ol' Kyra gets from her sister-in-law this Christmas!

Here, have a read at what happened to the poor girl:

Talk about embarrassing!

Oh well... it could've been worse. She could have hated her husband; or had the runs; or snorted coke; or had a quickie with "Skip", the key grip.

I'm gonna go chill

I'm headed here the day after Labour Day.

Yes, labour with a "u". Get over it.

So anyway... seeing as Main Man and I have never taken a vacation in 7 years that ever involved:

1. No work
2. Our being completely alone

... we've decided it's high time we take one. Plus, I'm turning 40 on Labour Day, and I feel the need to get away. I want to go somewhere I've never been before. I want to frolic. I want to laugh. I want to feel free.

I want to feel 25.

Yes, yes... while I may look 25, my body tells me that I am not.

What? Fuck you. Of course I look 25.

Anyway, the point is that the link above is for a Bethany Beach web cam, and I thought it might be neat to find it when I'm there, and wave to y'all.

But then I figured that might not work out so well, seeing as I'd have to wave at the exact time y'all are looking. So I thought maybe I'd just post a sign on the giant clock or on the bench that says "Berry was Here!". Would that work? Okay then.

In the meantime, life at home gets back to normal this week. Step-Son's room will be converted back into the home gym-ish, and I get to watch all the TV shows I want to watch, even if it says "viewer discretion is strongly advised".

What if I told you...

... that minutes before leaving for the airport, MIL overpowered me and locked me in the shed?!

And then...

Days later, starved and desperate to see the voting results for Rock Star: Supernova, I remembered a McGyver episode in which our hero breaks out of a locked shed using the thread from his shirt button, a tiger's tooth, frogs' legs, Kabbalah water, and chewing gum.

But I didn't have any of these things handy, so I just waited for Main Man to figure out where I was.

But anyway, that's not the point...

If I told you that this is what happened, would you believe me? Would it sound like an exciting enough reason for me to be so delinquent with posting?

(sigh)... Truth is, this has been Step-Son's last week with us (he leaves Saturday a.m.). We've been cramming every activity we had planned for the summer but never got around to doing into these last few days.

Today feels weird. It will be eerily quiet around here tomorrow.

24 Hrs. to go!

MIL flies home tomorrow. The week has gone by very well, thanks to my negotiating skills.

I told her if she promises to stop moving my shit around, I'd let her out of the shed.

If that makes me a softie, so be it.

I've been Berry Delinquent

I know, I know... I HATE going to blogs that are updated once a month too. I hear ya, really I do.

I'm blaming it all on Step-Son, because his visit is sure keeping me busy. It's kinda nice, though, this "having a life" thing. One could get used to it.

But, alas, this week will prove to be a challenge for me. Why? Because Mother-in-Law is arriving this afternoon for a week-long visit.

I get along perfectly fine with MIL. That's not the problem. It's just that, well, she's the British version of Marie Barone (from Everybody Loves Raymond, for those not familliar). Oh, and she's got the energy level of a 5-yr-old.... on speed.

I, on the other hand, don't.

She's an awesome golfer, though. So maybe I'll pick up a few tips and also be awesome.

And maybe I'll get me some speed. Or at least some sugar. You know... to keep up.

Grandpa Opie??

Where oh where has the time gone?

I read today that this guy is to become a grandpa soon:

What? Yes, of course I mean the guy in the middle. (smartass)

Seems like just the other day, he and Potsie and Ralph-Malph were helping launch Scott Baio's career. And then, suddenly,... without warning, he grows up, loses a bunch of hair, directs a bunch of movies, begets this:

And then she goes and gets knocked up and engaged and stuff.

Wow.

I wonder how Scott Baio's doing.

Coincidence?

Step-Son has lost 2 teeth since he's been with us.

He lost the first one last week (shown below). He lost the second one yesterday. And there's apparently another shaky tooth looming.

I have included this image as proof that we are not knocking teeth out of the kid's mouth. As you can see, there are no ugly bruises, and the rest of his teeth are nice and healthy.

I have, however, made an executive decision regarding Pop-Tarts. They are no longer on the menu.

Well... for him, anyway. This girl still needs an occasional Pop-Tart.

Pretty obvious to me

photo: Denis Doyle/Getty Images file

This is the headline on msnbc.com today. There's bound to be all kinds of investigations and legal back-and-forths about this.

But looking at this picture, I know the truth. He is of elven descent, and he won using his magical powers. Case closed.

Morning has broken...

... and the heatwave has broken too!!! Humidity is waaaaaay down. There is much rejoicing in my home today.

My bedroom and bathroom doors have de-swelled and can once again close! I can buy a new box of cereal and not have it go soggy before I get a chance to eat it! My hair is straight again! I can no longer cook an egg on my kitchen floor!

To celebrate, I will play golf. Oh yes I will. Non-sticky golf. The best kind.

Things you notice when trying to keep a kid entertained...

1. There aren't enough mini-golf establishments around here.
2. Soccer takes WAY more energy than I remember.
3. Bowling in a funky neon-lit alley hurts the eyes.
4. I need a nap... often.