Mrs. Bob

My goodness!  I am flattered by all the compliments on my arrow sign.  You shouldn’t have!  And yes, it is darling, thank you for noticing.

I took HD in to the eye glass clinic.

*sigh*

I don’t know if you have been keeping up with the saga that is HD’s glasses this year, but let me tell you, it has surely been a treat.

The puppy has eaten them three times since February, and a more “with it” parent, I could not be.

Anyways, I made him just live with the chewed up lenses because the puppy got to the lenses in June (I think) and I knew he would have a prescription change in August.  And I was correct.

So, we went to the eye glass clinic and I searched for Bob.  You remember Bob, right?  Sure you do.

Bob was not there.

A nice lady helped us.  She was kind and seemed to throw no shade at me or my son and our failures as eye glass customers.

HD, who suffers from, “I am in middle school and awkward and I am way too embarrassed to talk to adults in public”-itis, started whispering to me that the strap was wrong.

Nice Lady overheard:  Is there a problem?

Me:  Oh.  Well, he doesn’t care for the strap that came with these glasses and last year, Bob-um does Bob still work here?

Nice Lady:  Yes!  He is just on vacation.

Me:  Oh, good.  Well, Bob found him a smaller strap from a different pair of glasses, but the puppy ate that and I think HD was hoping for something similar, if possible.

Nice Lady:  Understandable!  Let us just leave a little note here for Bob and we will have him look into it when he returns.

Me:  Thank you!  Yes, Bob is great.  He has been helping HD since he was six months old.

Nice Lady:  Yes, I have heard Bob speak of this fine young man.

Well, what?!  Score.  And I thought for a moment that nice lady could be Mrs. Bob, on account of how accommodating she was, but then I thought, Nah, she would probably be on vacation with him if that were so.

Let the records show:  We are fans of Bob.  And now, Mrs. Bob.  Who is most assuredly, not Mrs. Bob.

***

The other night, I declared myself “done” for the night and made David in charge on account of being over it and feeling stressed about the upcoming school year.

What IS going to happen with school?  Do you know?  I don’t.

I informed David he was in charge.  Love doing that.  I am sure he loves it, too.

David (shouting at LD):  Dude!  Get outside!  Your lambs are loose and the puppy is chasing them all around the property!

I enjoyed not caring about the ordeal.

***

The boys and I distracted Mama Kitty with a hearty helping of kibble and a bowl of water.  Then HD lifted the couch so we could see the new baby kittens.  We found five, but one was oh-so-dead, so we have four kittens living under the couch.

And are we surprised that something has died here on this property?  No.  No, we are not.

***

Speaking of death, remember the two weaner pigs that were left and David wanted to house them with the giant, horrific pigs?

Well, one of them died soon after we moved them to live with the lambs.  We don’t know why.  Just walked out there, and there it was:  dead.

Shocking.

Its companion pig was not looking good for a long time.  But it stayed with the lambs and I would visit him/her daily.  I am not interested in this pig enough to genderify it yet.

Hadley has a friend named Lily.  Lily is often here and she is always uber respectful to me, so I torture the poor girl and have her do things for me because I know she won’t give me attitude.

Me:  Lily, go take these food scraps and give them to the dying pig.

Lily:  What, huh?

Me:  Please feed these to the baby pig who is about to die.

Lily:  How do I know which one is the dying pig?

Me:  Go out there.  Find the lambs.  There should be a sickly looking pig living with them.

Lily:  Got it, Mrs. Taylor!

She calls me Mrs. Taylor.  An upstanding young woman.

I am pleased to report that sickly pig is on the up and up!  He/She is now running all around and weaving in and out of the lamb pen, the steer pen, and the giant/horrific pig pen.  A lot more energy, a lot more spunk.

If I name it or determine its gender, it will most assuredly die, so we will hold off on that for now.

***

Yes!  Reader Lisa got it correct.

You have to add the “k” to panic when adding -ing because it will turn the C into soft c.  Soft C makes the s sound.

The “c” says “s” before e,i, and y.

And don’t say I never taught you anything.

***

The Money Piece.

This is not a naughty thing, so keep your minds out of the gutter please.

Haircut Lisa and I decided that I should not do any color near my roots because, well, she knows me and she knows I am going to start teaching soon, and we all know when Taylor teaches that is ALL she can handle.  So, who knows when I will be in again, and we cannot have nasty root growth, you know?

So she did a technique called “balayage” and then added “the money piece.”

I think it is just a couple of pieces around your face to highlight/frame your face?  I don’t know.  I live on a farm.  I had to take a selfie for you to see it and I really dislike taking selfies.

The only person in my family who likes my hair is Little Dude.

#winning