Schwinn. Buy a Schwinn.
2005-04-15, 2:07 p.m.

Ah, Spring. Beautiful, beautiful Spring. 70 degrees and clear blue skies here and everything else is solid yellow. Spring just happens to be heavy pollen season so half the populace of Tennessee is currently trying to hack up a lung.

Between Daughter�s scooter and my pampas grass escapade I look like a poster girl for domestic violence. Daughter�s new scooter has had some problems, which the company has been quick to offer to remedy (SCHWINN, YOU ROCK. BUY A SCHWINN). I was moving it into the garage the other day, after having it out to move some stuff around in the garage into other awkward positions, and had to rev the motor to move it forward. *insert idiot moment here* It surged mightily and took me along for .003 seconds until both of us went down noisily and ungracefully in the front yard, all airborne legs and derriere and handle bars and baskets, leaving the scooter unscathed but me with BIG HONKING PURPLY GREEN BASHY BITS on my right arm and leg. Since that wasn�t masochistic enough, today I removed a big-green-city-trash-can�s worth of dead choking foliage from the base of our half-dead clump of pampas grass, and learned firsthand that it is called �sawgrass� for a very good reason.

Thank you Lord for Ne0sp0rin cream. Amen.

Mama and Significant Other came earlier in the week and stayed for one whole day. One day. One. Day. On their way here, they learned of yet another death of yet another person one or both of them knew, so they arrived late Sunday afternoon and headed back to SC early Tuesday morning. Funerals are becoming their main social outings. That must be a bit disconcerting. Barring illnesses, doctors� appointments, still more funerals, or any other catastrophe, they plan to return week after next for Daughter�s orchestra concert and stay a bit longer than a single day.

Son has a behavior plan at school, with his day divided into half-hour increments. For each 30-minute period, if he can refrain from telling the teacher how stupid/repetitive/boring her lesson is or whining why does he have to prove to them that he already knows that stuff, then he gets a check. 10 out of 12 possible checks for the day earns him a Pokeym0n card. This has worked well during the school day, but homework has been a veritable three-hour-chained-to-the-kitchen-table-screeching-nightmare. Until last week, when the school added homework to his checklist. Without batting an eye, he began to do his homework quickly, neatly, and without prompting.
Why. Did. We. Not. Do. This. Sooner.

I. Would. Still. Have. My. Sanity.

Well, maybe.

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