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Morning Debate

If  Bear didn’t already have a cancer tumor on his rump, I woulda totally kicked him in the butt. Nothing is worse than being woken up by the dog getting in the trash and decorating the inside of the garage with garbage remnants. BAD DOG!!!! I had to get up anyway to make Jake breakfast because he has a debate and I want him to have a good breakfast so he won’t be arguing on an empty stomach. Or…. debating or whatever he does at all these Republican thingys he goes to. He tries to tell me and I want to listen…..truely, I have every intention of listening… but ummm, I’d rather watch paint peeling.

Nevertheless, I am supportive in other ways: such as when he comes downstairs in faded blue shorts and a banana yellow shirt with dress shoes, I do take the time to inform him that he looks more like an ice cream flavor than a politician and that he should change. While he’s upstairs changing, I start the grits. Jake is a grits lover! He would eat them every day if he could. I meant to start the second I woke up because this is the real kind of corn grits that takes 50 minutes to cook, but those dern dogs distracted me! While they are slow cooking, I am still picking up trash which makes me a lil queasy and realize there are 80000000000000000 ants in the dogs food. I’m guessing the dogs were like starving due to an ant takeover ~ which in return, made the dog commit such a dastardly act.

Things start to get hectic as I:

Erect ant bodies from dogs food.

Run back in kitchen to stir 50 minute grits and start bacon.  Ewwwww bacon has vein things. Good grief, between the trash, the ants and now the veins……

Make executive decision and cook bacon anyway, veins and all.

Look up and we have to leave!!! Jake inhales his breakfast.

The grits haven’t had the whole 50 minutes to simmer so now, they are more like rock grits. I’m like afraid he’s gonna chip a tooth. Darn 50 minutes grits and vein bacon!!!!!

Breakfast a foil.

We hop in the car, 10 minutes later than we shoulda been and I tear down the road. I know what you’re thinking, one would think after yesterdays fiasco, that I would be more prompt.

Yea, right.  Can’t I blame it on the dogs this time?

We pull into the Government Complex where there’s a million buildings and see a bunch of people standing on some steps. “I told you what I had on first this morning was fine.  The dress for the debate is causal. Look at what everybody is wearing.  Now, you made me overdressed!!” Jake tells me as he’s getting his notebook and pens together.

I gasp as I look at the people on the steps. Wow , he was right. T shirts and flip flops. And hey, did they even bother to bathe?

“Ok, well, have a good time.” I tell him. Jake gets outta he car and walks towards the crowd. An extremely large un kept man comes to my car and motions for me to roll down the window.

I didnt want to. Not only did I still have on my pajamas, I was like a little skert. I inch down my window.

“Errrrrrrr. Hello?” I ask.

“Ummmm, yea mam, you dropping somebody off for community service?”

“Whoa Chief!!!!! No!!!!!! We are here for a debate this morning.”

“Well, this ain’t the right place, the debate’s back behind the library, mam.” The scruffy man tells me as he’s pulling up his pants.

I’m staring through the bleary eyed crowd. Oh my stars! Where is my child???? He’s gonna get wrapped up in the community service line!! I’ll come back to pick him up in 3 hours and he’ll already be chain smoking, spitting and bumming finger nail files. UGGGGGG!!

Must evacuate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Normally, I would call him on his cell phone but………ummmmmm, currently this morning, I have no phone and no purse.

I left them both at home because, because…..Dern dogs!!!!!!!

A mom has to do what a mom has to do. I stop the car and ease out into the parking lot. ( still in my pajamas, mind you.) Nobody even finches when they see the crazy woman peeping out of her car in her cupcake pajama pants, faded, elasticless black tank top wearing cheetah clogs (I know, how ugly, but they are so comfy.)

I start casually meandering through the parking lot to gather my child. Why do I feel like I’m somehow busting him out of the slammer? Luckily, Jake comes flying through the trees and hops into my car.

“This is not the right place.” He tells me.

“Ummmmmmmmmm, ya think?”

Pulling up to the next building, we see kacki pants, tucked in polos and signs, lots and lots of political signs.


“Sorry about the earlier mishap, babe.”

“It’ ok.” he says as he’s fixing his shirt. “Oh mom ~ ”

“Yes precious.”

“Do you think you could be wearing something other than those cupcake pajama pants when you come get me?”

“Errrrrr, ummmm. sure, babe.”

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