I put my sweet Pony in shorts today. He is always complaining about wearing pants. I thought the temps were going into the fifties after this morning's alleged freezing rain scenario. It's not like The Pony would take initiative and pick out his own clothes. If I don't grab a shirt and pants and lay them on the back of the couch, he will lay around in his pajamas all day. "Well, you never told me to get dressed." Sometimes he's too much like his father. Without the need to be told, "Breathe in. Breathe out."
As the faulty weather men would have it, we left home going on 1:00 with the temperature at 37 degrees. The Pony insisted he wasn't cold in his shorts and fur jeans. That's what he calls the hair on his legs. Unless he's calling it his fur napkin while wiping french fry grease in it. He did, however, turn on his seat heater.
I'm still waiting for the next big storm. I don't see one on the horizon. So I'm being forced to take matters into my own hands and schedule a personal day off work. I need to get my driver's license renewed, you see. It's been six years. I'm NOT going to take that silly test again. I know how to drive better than everyone on the roads today! That would be a waste of my time and state resources.
My personal day will be the week after next. With five days to spare before my license expires. I'm not taking any chances. What if a big snowstorm rolls in?
2 comments:
I DID let my license expire past the "grace period" (there is one) and had to take the eye exam, the written test and the driving test.
Yikes! I had to explain that I-only-wear-one-contact-because-my-insurance-will-not-pay-for-no-line-bifocals-so-one-eye-is-for-distance-and-one-eye-is-for-close-up. The officer (all 6 foot 4 inches of him) did not want to hear my yammering.
Then the employee who assessed my driving ability refused to let me play the radio while I drove. I cannot drive without Collective Soul and REM and Gnarls Barkley blaring. She, too, was unamused and uninterested.
Thankfully (or unfortunately, from the standpoint of the rest of the drivers in the state of Missouri) I passed all three tests.
Let yours lapse for a while. You don't want to miss out on all that fun, do you?
Sioux,
You, Madam, live on the edge. Not so Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. I will not take a test to prove that I am worthy.
I thought I was gonna have to smack some sense into the clerk behind the counter when the #1 son went for his test. I walked into the room, holding his pertinent identification in my hand, because, you know, children of 15 don't know the ropes of the public servant ballet yet. Before we even got to the counter, Hagatha shouted out, "You'll need to wait outside, Ma'am!" And not in a pleasant manner. In a challenging manner.
Sweet Gummi Mary! You'd think I wanted to hold his hand or slip him answers after they finally processed his info and sent him to a computer. I HAD JUST STEPPED THROUGH THE DOOR.
Lucky for #1, I did not want to embarrass him. That day.
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