Sunday, October 01, 2006

Homecoming Dance

Miriam, pictured here with her friend, still had the Homecoming Dance to attend last night with all her other friends. She borrowed this dress from someone and spent less than $20 on her shoes. Why go with a guy and have to dance with him all evening? Go with your friends and dance with anyone you want to, is a common theme around here that I certainly find agreeable. Be home by midnight, she woke me up at 11:58, I'm impressed, and she's already left for work this morning.

Joey, also impressing me, is working on a landscape install for Chuck on his day off, while Gito's been working on a nearby farm, listening to me holler, "Put that cash in your savings account, son. How you ever gonna git you a truck if you squander it on junk?" were my exact words and phrasing.

Big Joe had called me last night, knowing I'd praise him on such an awesome party job... which, duh of course, I did. But he also wanted me to tell The Bubbas that he was proud of them, acting right in public like they did yesterday. Every single one of them, no meltdowns, I didn't have to whisper threats of time-outs, and some of them even remembered to thank Joe.

"Honey, next year let's have a pinata in the yard and do pot-luck," I'd suggested as I knew Joe had spent a bundle on this extravaganza. "You ain't kidding," he'd responded.

I'd told Miriam she could wear a croaker sack and still look like a million bucks, she's got what it takes, and she'd hardly spent anything. Sabrina had picked me out some L.E.I. jeans at a yard sale yesterday for a quarter. No kidding, 25 cents for the most expensive looking jeans that I now have. But, more importantly, I found a large, gorgeous clay pot to repot my ficus tree. I'd just hollered at Wal-Mart when I saw a large clay saucer for $10.79. Are you kidding me? How do people afford plants at that rate, or even the pot to put it in, if the dadgum saucer costs that much.

"Calm down, Mama," was Edgar's usual reply to me, "you know you always find what you need on Saturdays at yard sales." Which is true, I always do so. Needing houseshoes as I'd worn the tread off mine hauling butt like I do, Jose came home Wednesday night from a "Saw You At The Pole" youth group rally at the civic center. They'd thrown prizes at the audience and Jose brought me home leopard print houseshoes in my size...what are the chances?

Gito had gone with a friend to a Baptist Youth Group Revival, branching out more now on his own at the ripe old age of 15 1/2, the night after our own Youth Group meeting.

Martin brought home a CD that we listened to the "I choose now" song on it (Anthony Evans) where the first line states he's glad that it wasn't tragedy that brought him to the throne, he chooses God now, a sentiment that I've given a lot of thought to over the last 25 years as that is how I also feel. I came to God at exactly the right time for me, a time when all was smooth, but in the year before I ended up at a dozen or so funerals of my then young friends and relatives.

It is smooth sailing around here right now, everyone getting along with everyone, much laughter and cutting up. A chance for me to relax, smile, I even watched a video with the whole family last one sent to their rooms for acting out, no bad attitudes, no clashes, no poop smearing...oh, kinda like I'd originally dreamed the adoption of a large family would be. I'll enjoy it while it lasts...Fabians's coming home in two weeks and I have to get this hernia surgically repaired which will set the entire family on edge...Uh-oh Mama's down, what does that mean for us?

I'll have to recuperate in the blink of an eye, stand up, flex my muscles and prove I'm still strong through the painkillers that probably will make me not care if they act out anyway.

Martin and my oldest grandchild, Baby Yolie, right before she punched him and smirked, "I'm taller than you."