Crocodile Tears Falling On Keyboards

Life will be a bit hectic around the Mansion this week. But don't y'all worry your pretty little heads about missing a post from Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. She has planned ahead, banked some words of wisdom and whimsy so nobody goes lacking for a daily dose of Hillbilly news.

On Monday, The Pony gets out of school from 8:00 to 2:00 for a trip to a neighboring school district with the Middle School Honors Band. Trombone, in case you were wondering. An instrument which is hard to play with a broken elbow, arm in a cast, which caused him to miss a concert last year. The Pony loves band. He is currently first chair in the Basementia band. That could change every few weeks, as the trombone section is very competitive, having three conscientious 'boners who take their music seriously. However, in The Pony's case, not seriously enough to actually bring his instrument in from T-Hoe every night and practice it. He says he practices at school, while the teacher is working with other sections. The best part of this band practice is that the students get to order pizza for lunch! The Pony would sell his tender soul for pizza. He might even practice his trombone for pizza, such is his love of the cheesy pie.

With it being Monday, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has parking lot duty before and after school. Then it's the first Monday faculty meeting. Then we'll rush home, grab some vittles, change The Pony into his concert-worthy clothes, and head back to town. Farmer H will not be in attendance, having a crucial parent meeting with the #1 son's junior class fundraiser project. It's about school carnival, and this class has always been severely lacking in interest. Until now, of course. #1 is included in that apathetic contingent.

Tuesday morning, we all must arise bright and early to get Farmer H to the hospital. He's having knee surgery around 7:30 a.m., and must be there with $364 in hand at 6:30. Do you know how much Diet Coke that would buy? I've taken the day off (is that the sound of crocodile tears falling on keyboards that I hear?) to be driving Mister Farmer.

I'm a tad apprehensive about Farmer H's knee surgery. He has two tears and a bulge. It will be arthroscopic. But still. It's surgery. He's off work for a week, can't put weight on the leg for three days, but wants to go to the bowling alley Thursday night. I am volunteering the #1 son to drive him and pick him up. It's only five miles. Which still doesn't mean that I want to cart him back and forth. He bowled nine games Friday night to stay caught up with his league.

With all the happenings, I hope I don't forget to pick up The Pony after his academic meet on Tuesday evening. It's his last one, at a far-away school, and I'm sure they'll stop for a bite to eat on the way home. I've told him to text me when they leave, so I can start over to Basementia to meet his bus. Living in Hillmomba ain't all it's cracked up to be.

I don't even know what #1 has on his agenda. He's the type to spring it on me at the last minute. He'll just have to shoehorn his way into my schedule if there's a conflict. The Pony will be having Academic Team and Math Team practice until 5:00 the rest of the week. Saturday is the Academic District Tournament, and next Monday is the local junior college District Math Competition.

All that almost makes the following week filled with parent conferences and Science Fair seem like a vacation.