Neighborhood Night Out party this weekend. Our neighborhood has never held an event on the first Tuesday in August. We like to do that sort of thing on a Saturday night. Our event is more of a party than some other events I’ve heard of out there. Our root beer floats are made with real beer and no ice cream. And we don’t typically invite the police to come to our event, if they come, they come on their own, or when they called by other neighborhoods.
We had a band playing. Really good band btw, same group I’ve played with a couple times. We had some food and some beers and bourbon and some more food and some more booze and pretty soon it was 2:00am and another party was in the books.
Only thing left to do this summer is get the last kid off to Canada for school. That happens tomorrow. Mrs S and the kid get in the Audi and drive it to Seattle. Mrs S flies home from Seattle on Wednesday and boom, we’re down to one kid. One quiet kid who doesn’t have much to do except get through high school.
Open house for the new high school student is Wednesday. Mrs S won’t be home, so I have to go. That’s a rather large problem. An immense massive problem because Mrs S is going to have some serious expectations of my parenting skills which I’m 100% certain I will not be able to meet. I haven’t been to a school conference since the unfortunate events of the 1997 conference season when I asked a dried up old hag of a teacher how my second grader learned. An when her response was “I don’t know” I just had to say “well, aren’t you his teacher?”
Mrs S didn’t appreciate my candor with the woman, apparently we’re supposed to get along.
I, have never felt all that encumbered by conventions to “get along”.
And I don’t listen particularly well. I’m headed for trouble.
