Monday, December 21, 2015

A Competitive Eater, A Juggler, And A Pick-Up Artist Walk Into A Mansion...

Sweet Gummi Mary! Has Mrs. Hillbilly Mom bitten off more than she can chew? It is highly conceivable that she has bitten off more than Takeru Kobayashi can chew.

So much for this being a leisurely week without work, waiting for Christmas to roll around on Friday. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has more balls in the air right now than The Pony's balls that she held in her hand in Little Caesar's.

So many balls, in fact, that Mrs. HM had to type out an itinerary for the rest of the week, lest she drop a ball and ruin somebody's Christmas. It's even more hectic than the year Farmer H decided to have his titanium plate screwed into his neck vertebrae two days before Christmas, leaving Santa HM to do all the heavy lifting. And everything else. Because the Hillbilly young 'uns would not have understand if Santa was delayed by a few weeks.

The #1 son is home from college. He made it clear that he did not have any reason that he HAD to come home. He was only doing it for the Hillbilly family. So they could bask in the 2000-watt glow of his naturally sunny nature. Mrs. HM herself was almost blinded by his light, trying to stir her world-famous Chex Mix at the same cutting block where #1 had pulled up a stool and was feeding directly from a take-out hot & sour soup container filled with Mansion Chex Mix. That's the leavings from the bottom of the pans, after the good stuff is socked away for more worthy recipients.

#1 DID bring us a loaf of pumpkin bread that he made from his very own backyard pumpkin. It was quite tasty, the morsel I indulged in around 11:00. Had I only known the way the day was about to turn, I would have snatched that loaf away from #1 and gnawed it until only a heel was left. Let the record show that Mrs. HM did not get her lunch today until...well...until 6:30 p.m. Which is hardly worth eating by that time, having already bypassed the supper hour, and making the thought of "lupper" ludicrous.

Sure, I had a raggedy slice of DiGiorno that had been INTENDED for my lupper, which I popped in the oven at 3:11, planning on a leisurely repast after a hard day of Chex Mix making, present wrapping, Farmer H-communicating, grocery shopping, and 44 oz Diet Coke gathering. Plus picking up items belonging to #1 from every open surface that had just been cleared. However, that slice was not grabbed until 4:10, as I was on the way out the door to be driven by #1 to--

That's a secret. To be revealed on my not-quite-as-supersecret blog.

A competitive eater, a juggler, and a pick-up artist walk into a Mansion...and Mrs. Hillbilly Mom walks out the back door munching on a cold slice of DiGiorno.


Sioux said...

Soooo. Farmer H is into heavy metal?

Hillbilly Mom said...

They rebuilt him! But he's the same as before.