Okay. There's no song. Unless somewhere, the world's smallest violin is playing for Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, who has been preparing for the holiday nonstop for about a week now, and woke up at 3:00 a.m. on her back, mouth gaping open, contaminants from Farmer H's breather no doubt having rained down on her through the night, with the worst sore throat ever, and a pain in her right ear. The one that faces the breather.
There's also no dance. Unless you count the wiggle performed by Mrs. HM in order to get the blood flowing through her stiffened knees upon standing, after sitting for hours peeling eggs for deviling and for 7-layer-salading.
But the rant is here, people! The rant is here.
On Tuesday, after his driving test, The Pony and I went to Big Lots to pick up some prizes for the games to be played at my sister the ex-mayor's wife's party this evening. We needed two grand prizes and eleven participation prizes.
Of course The Pony, a carer naught, (not in the least!) of other people's feelings...wandered off to look on his own. And found THIS:
Lest you think Mrs. HM bought this treat for The Pony, as a reward for all the holiday help he has been to her during the wrapping and the shopping and the cooking...and The Pony and his Snickers lived happily every after...You'd only be half right. Indeed, the highway robbery ransom of $10 (only $9.49 on Amazon, or $18.00, depending on the seller, and we won't even go there concerning the "new and USED price") was paid by Mrs. HM. It's the happily ever after part where the problem arises.
The #1 son is home from college, you know. He and a friend were watching a marathon of Shameless last night. And in one of their forays into Frig II for sustenance...Giant Snickers was discovered. Let the record show that he DID ask. And that minimal strong-arming was detected.
The Pony allowed #1 and friend to saw off 1/3 of that Giant Snickers.
I think he saw the writing on the wall when he noticed that two bottles of his IBC root beer stash had already been emptied.
It's shameless, I tell you.