So, a million weeks after I went to AZ, I am finally getting the last day written about. Jeez.
And what makes matters worse, there really wasn't that much that happened on my last day. It's kinda like the weak sound that a whoopee cushion makes when it's not inflated enough. You know, like the ppfffzeeeesssss. Here goes:
Sunday morning in Green Valley consists of one thing and one thing only....bloody mary's and breakfast buffet at The Legion (OK, just realized that's really two things, oh well). All those crazy people that I met there on Friday night (you remember, the crazy super skinny leather skin zebra print pant lady? And all the purple/gray football helmet hair and bright red lipstick?), they will now be cast in the bright and shininess rays of daylight. Oh joy. But there's one good, actually great, thing about this little adventure....BLOODY MARY'S. An excuse to get liquored up early on 'God's Day'. Praise be to the Lord.
Oh, and did I mention that bloody mary's are on special on Sunday, so they were like 2 bucks?! Loooove It!
The whole fam-dam-ily walked right in the front door to the Legion, paid for our buffet tickets and went straight to the bar. God I love my family. Screw the food....we need Vodka! The poor bartender wasn't even set up yet. (Apparently she didn't get the memo that the Sheik's were in town and they like their alcohol. Early.)
After a glorious feast of fried everything and maple syrup covered goodiness, we waddled back to the cars to go back to my Aunt and Uncle's pool. Because, of course, what else do you do after you gorge yourself, at 11am in the morning....Go get a red beer and sit by the glistening water.
But before we left, we had to say a sad goodbye to my wonderful cousin Corey, Jessica, and my adorable Godson Akahi. They had to catch a flight back to Florida, so my Aunt drove them to Tucson.
Once we got back to the house, all was going perfect for about 3 lazy hours: I read my book, put on sunscreen, refilled my drink, read my book, got in the pool, took a little mini-nap, read my book, etc. Then 2 o'clock rolls around and Hardy (my Mom's boyfriend) started to get a little antsy. Apparently, he is not made up of the same relaxed material my mother and I are where you can just lay around ALL day and read. He was hungry, he needed nourishment pronto. So my mom and him go off to get food. I, of course, didn't want to leave the side of the pool, because I didn't want to hurt it's feelings.
They were gone for about 30 minutes. As they pull up, I'm thinking, 'that can't be enough time to go eat somewhere.' Yeppers, I was right, they didn't eat somewhere, they brought the grocery store to us. Seriously. Hardy starts carting in bag after bag after bag full of food. Keep in mind, there are only three of us at the house right now, and when my Aunt and Uncle get back, that makes a whooping 5 individuals. Not an army, not a elementary school, just a small family. What the H-E-double L's is he doing?
Well, he said, "I want Mexican food. I need something to go with my Corona." Makes perfect sense.
And if Hardy is going to cook, then by God, he's going to cook for every person that resides in a 5 mile radius. But it was delicious, ground beef and bean burritos with lettuce and salsa, some sort of sour cream/cream cheese/salsa dip with tortilla chips, and of course, Coronas.
That leaves us full for the next decade, so the rest of the afternoon and evening we just relaxed. About dark time (at this time the bloody mary's, corona's, and whatever else I've been drinking all day is starting to get to me so I don't remember the exact time, but it was dark) my Aunt Jeannie, mom and I decide to pay the grandparents a visit. So we hop in the 'boat' and cruise on down the road.
Funny thing, there is something wrong with the blinker when you turn it on if you want to make a right turn. The left turn way is fine, does the little beep....beep....beep. But when you turn it to the right, it's like it just took a hit of coke mixed with a 12 pack of Red Bull. It goes: beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep. Well, us being the so talented mechanic women we are, figure we need to stop and make sure that it's actually working before we trudge off into the night. So we pull over in, I think, in an Bank of America parking lot to check it out. My Aunt jumps out of the car and heads to the back. Mom (who's driving) turns on the left way, the normal way, and my Aunt's like, "Yep, that works fine." Now on to the entertainment....the right way, crazy coked up way. My Aunt proceeds to do a little jig in the middle of the parking lot, to the tune of the hyperactive blinker lights. Complete with fingers in the air and hips swaying back in forth in rapid succession.
I have now just entered the Twilight Zone.
And I now will have to go back to Kansas and confess to my husband that he did not marry into a low-key, totally sane family. We're all looney tunes. And that because the gene's in my family are abnormally strong, I will most likely be the lady dancing in parking lots in the middle of the night someday. Poor husband.
Besides the little 'blinker' episode, that's about the extent of the Sunday fun. Monday afternoon I hopped on a big flying toilet paper roll (also known as an airplane) and blasted off towards Kansas. Once back, I walked up to my little shiny black sedan and found a GIANORMOUS scratch and dent in the drivers side. Wonderful. Apparently some A-Hole side-swiped my door with his bumper when he was pulling out of the parking space. Thanks a lot jerk-wad. Didn't leave a business card, no 'I'm sorry I just ruined your whole exhausting day by not paying a BIT of attention when behind the wheel' note stuck under the windshield wiper, nothing. Note to everyone: If you ding a persons car, dent the door, or otherwise do something to someone else's vehicle that leaves it not looking the same as before whatever you did....Leave an efffing note with your contact information! Or at least an apology.
OK. Now I'm all worked up over the car thing. Bastard.
Alright, I gotta go. Work to be done. Until next time my love bunnies!