Dragonfly
I'm officially TIRED of summer, y'all. I was doing okay there for a while, for someone who absolutely detests the arrival of bees (read: anything that stings) and can't stand temperatures over 85 degrees. Then it hit a regular 96-100 degrees Every. Stinking. Day. And my hair wilted. And my skin roasted. But!! Yesterday? I received a batch of letters addressd: To the parents of....

Hallelujah, school is about to start! I can't describe how excited I am. School means quiet work days, and - eventually - cooler weather. It means busy spawnlings who do not say, "I'm bored" fifty times a day. It means homework hour -- SO QUIET. And it means earlier bedtimes. Yay!

Of course, first I have to pry my oldest son off the sailboats and drag him back home. He's been staying with my Dad on and off for the last two months - coming home for a few days here and there in between. He called me yesterday:

Shaggy: I just got back from the Laser Regatta
Me: Cool! How'd you do?
Shaggy: Oh, I DNF'd.
Me: DNF'd?
Shaggy: Yeah, Did. Not. Finish.
Me: What happened? How did you not finish?
Shaggy: Well, I tacked just before I reached the start line and then the wind... (blah blah blah) and the sail wrapped.... (blah blah blah) and then I went over.
Me: You flipped the boat again?
Shaggy: Yeah, that's what I was saying. Except when I hopped over the side to land on the daggerboard to flip her back up, it wasn't there. It had fallen out!
Me: You broke the boat?
Shaggy: Nooooo. Just listen! It comes out, Mom. So then... (blah blah blah blah - long drawn out description of nonsense) .... stuck in the mud and they had to send a boat to pull me out.
Me: That's it?
Shaggy: Yeah.
Me: So you didn't even START the race?
Shaggy: Yeah. But it was just a fun race, no big deal. And I had a blast sailing around for like two hours before it started.
Me: Ohhh, okay.
Shaggy: Papa Steve and I are renting two Lasers tomorrow; we're going to race each other.
Me: What? I thought we were picking you up tomorrow.
Shaggy: Nahh. I'm staying another week, I think. The instructor over here thinks I'm really good and wants to sail with me some more. He also wants me to enter a regatta next weekend.
Me: Oh, that's cool. Where is it at?
Shaggy: Palacios.
Me: **choking on my coffee** That's like four hours away! Or more!
Shaggy: Yeah, I thought it might be too far so I'm talking Papa Steve into taking me.
Me: Should I be expecting adoption papers soon? Are you EVER coming back home?
Shaggy: Awww Mom, you know I love you more than sailing. What are you going to do when I decide to sail around the world like
Zac?
Me: Shoot myself.
Shaggy: WHY?
Me: You just admitted that you were in a boat race that you did not finish because you flipped the boat before you could even start. And you had to be rescued.
Shaggy: ** laughing ** Yeah, I'm really liking the life-vests now.
Me: I'm hanging up.

Y'all my Dad is in HEAVEN. He finally has the little sailor boy he always wanted, a kid who's perfectly happy hanging out on the boat all day long, every day. Apparently, he even does nasty boat chores with a smile on his face. *sigh* If only he'd apply that sort of fervor to vacuuming his room.

And if you're wondering what this Laser racing looks like... and aforementioned wipeout? Check this out:


As you can see, that whole flipping thing is actually quite common. <--- trying to convince myself.


Okay, then. I'm off to plan the kidnapping of my son, you know... so I can get him back home again in time for school to start. Thank goodness the little one just wants to play baseball.

Edited to add: Mr. Clean just informed me that Doodlebug has decided he really, really wants to take up FENCING instead of another year in baseball. Sweet bleeding jalepeno! Do you KNOW how much that COSTS? (and how suprised am I that the wee one wants to take up a sport his Dad was in for years?) I'm off to go find a second job now.







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  1. Babysis Says:

    Omg! That looks like so much fun. I can see the guys playing with those and I may just have to go and watch them race. When are they going to do this??