Just Another Busy Day in Petticoat Junction
I finished my work at the store in less than four hours today, which gave me plenty of time to take The Girl to the pediatrician’s office for her third, and final, Gardasil shot. She will proudly tell you that she is now “one less”, just like in the commercial. One less what, she has no idea as we have not quite gotten around to discussing the nitty-gritty details of sexually transmitted diseases , yet but; she’s still quite pleased with herself.
After the appointment with the physician’s assistant and her needle o’ live virus, we headed to the home of one of the volunteers from Old Job. I installed a Lifeline unit for her, which is a community service that my woman’s club provides. We enjoyed a nice visit with her while installing the unit then we headed to the Hellmouth for yet more holiday shopping. I am officially one gift away from completely finishing my shopping (which is also one gift away from bankruptcy. According to Hugh, anyway).
While we were driving to the store, I checked my cell phone voicemail and was tickled by a message left by my four-year-old nephew who wanted to know who Wonder Woman was when she was not being Wonder Woman. I am, naturally, his primary source of information in these matters and happily returned his call (Diana Prince, in case you were wondering) and, to my sister I say; Irony, it’s what’s for dinner. Grab a fork and try not to choke on the bitterness.
Speaking of dinner, I finally decided what to serve for Christmas dinner and the winner is….ham! Thanks in no small part to the Police department who gave a maple-glazed spiral ham to each of it's officers. The Girl, she is delighted as only a ham-lover can be and my wallet is thankful for the gift as well; that possible bankruptcy may well be averted for yet another holiday season.
Since we were talking about The Girl, I should mention that, this evening; the Man-Cub and I made Christmas mice cookies while The Girl held an ice pack on the knot in her arm and cried about how the band aid was pulling her arm hair; she’s one less all right, one less able-bodied cookie baker. Hopefully the soreness will be gone by tomorrow as I may have to call upon her mad stirring skillz in the preparation of the Smores Brownies that I promised to bake for the PD Christmas party.
After all, they gave us a ham; we can hardly show up empty-handed, now.