Dragonfly
Aliens have abducted my kid. Shaggy, my soon to be 14 year old pre-teen, who suffers mightily from male PMS these days – he cleaned his room! For months I’ve been asking him to clean. I’ve threatened. I’ve cajoled. I’ve begged. Normally, I’m met with a stare which makes me think he hangs out in the seventh ring of Hell. Often. I suspect the denizens below may have even given him a Free Any Time Pass. But this morning? This morning he was cleaning and vacuuming and using carpet deodorizer! And I did not ASK. I cannot find pods. I’ve looked. There are no crop circles in my back yard. But my kid? He’s gone. This is not my kid. He’s even being pleasant today. Perhaps he’s buttering me up for some insane request. I’m sure that’s it. Next, he’ll start telling me how much he loves me.

Luckily the Doodlebug (who will be 8 next month) seems to be in his right mind and body. He’s amazingly resilient to my ideas of his room being cleaned. This is normal behavior, I’m happy to admit. He cleaned, though. For five minutes. Then he became distracted by an RC truck he got for Christmas, which sounds like a robot on crack. I have hidden the battery charger. It’s the noise. The Noise. My God, who makes these things?

So one room down, one about to be there (once the batteries run out), and Mr. Clean just got home so the vacuuming is about to commence. I dare say my house might just be ready for the party tomorrow. Baby Sis came by on Thursday to clean. And she did a hell of a job, I have to say. I wasn’t much help. I spent the entire day struggling with my connectivity to work – or should I say disconnectivity. I must have rebooted the damn laptop at least five times and had to call work’s Support line twice. Both times I had to explain to the IT guys how to fix my particular problem. Both times they argued with me. Both times they had to suck it up and admit they didn’t have a freaking clue and I knew exactly what I was talking about. I’m sure I am the bane of their existence. But it’s okay because the house is almost sparkling fresh.

All this so I can let Baby Sis host a party in my house. A Pleasure party, no less, which includes all manner of creams and oils and… Yes… Toys. I giggle every time I think about it. Of course, the boys are all being sent away for the afternoon. But my Step-mom will be here. And let me just say… that sort of squicks me out a little. Not that she’ll be here! Nothing like that. It’s the idea that she’s going to Ooh and Ahh over things that she then plans to take home for my Dad to utilize. Just that sentence? My brain is frying in the hot grease of EWWWW.

And on that note… I’m outta here. My friend, the CroMag, is coming for dinner and he’s requested German food. In other words, food that takes most of the afternoon to prepare. But it’s okay because then he’s going to Owe me AND I plan on taking ALL of his money tonight when we play poker. As usual.
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