What a week, eh?

And time for the weekend. I have to go get Oldest Girl from her grandparents on one side of town, then haul her back onto home turf and go pick up her new glasses from (guess where) Wal-Mart.

They must have some new help over the summer, because they uncharacteristically were very knob-headed when filling in the insurance form or, in fact, even being prepared for it to be handled by insurance at all. Reba had called and warned them, but when she got there Tuesday the young eye tech dude reacted as one would expect anything saddled with being “young,” “tech,” or “dude” to react. Slow speech, blank stare. Luckily, I was shopping for school supplies with the other kids, so I didn’t have to witness Mrs. Oglesby administer his punishment.

I wound up having to go back LAST night, this time to get Middle Girl’s frame fixed, and also to drop off the proper form for them to fill out. Which took forever. At least this time it was handled by the Anti-Dude, whom I’ve never seen before, except for her work in Hollywood. Tall, deeply tanned brunette with a lab coat, denim skirt, and a white peasant blouse showing about three inches of gymnasium-toned midriff.

If I may say so: “Hokey SMOKES, Bullwinkle!”

Even at this very moment, I still am trying to figure out what to think about this situation—I mean, it seems like every woman in Trussville looks like a model, yet there is something vaguely disconcerting about a young lady walking around acting like a serious Wal-Mart eyewear professional/actress. It just seems a more likely role for Velma, rather than Daphne. (Of course, Velma hates that sort of typecasting.) Anyway, the whole gang of meddling kids finally figured out the insurance form and replaced the missing screw in the glasses.

One wonders what exciting adventures await us tonight.

Saturday, as usual, horseback riding for the kids, and I really, REALLY need to cut the grass. I somehow managed to finish some of the yard from several weeks ago, but there is still a patch in the middle of the back yard that has grown treetop tall. And I still haven’t found time to wire up the poor little fountain. And finish filling up the bird feeders. And there’s laundry. And picking up the never ending pile of bricabrac the kids pull out of their rooms and handily strew about the house. And making sure they all get their ears cleaned out.

Sunday is gonna be fun. The teacher of the Sunday four-year-old class came up to me at church Wednesday night and said, “You’re going to hate me…” Which is code for “You’re going to hate me, but you know what? I really don’t care because…” Because this group of kids is the one I was talking about back on Monday morning as being the bunch that has absolutely no parental control, and she had gotten to the point of not wanting to teach them annnnnny more. I have all of their parents scheduled to teach either this quarter or some other time during the rest of the year, and the kids’ sterling reputation has made it nearly impossible to find anyone who will teach them. Basically, there is no one I could call on. So, since I didn’t schedule myself to teach this quarter, I told her I would teach it for the rest of the quarter.

They’re not gonna like it, and I imagine there are going to be some parents who don’t like it.

I’m not sure what they are studying right now on Sundays, but it will all change no matter what it is. We are going to learn some new things, such as: when the teacher says be quiet, we be quiet; when the teacher asks us something, we say “yes, sir” or “no, sir;” when we want to talk, we raise our hand—the whole Miracle Worker/To Sir, With Love routine. And despite what some of you may think, after the initial shock of having Gunny Hartman banging on a garbage can and screaming at them, they will settle down and be good, and have fun, and get a neat surprise out of the sack at the end of class, and generally learn that it’s more fun to mind than to act like a bunch of heatherns.

I’m not sure yet about their parents, though. Might have to do a little PT on them. (I don’t think we’ll use Up Jumped a Monkey.)

In any event, it will make for an interesting post come Monday morning. See you then.
posted by Terry at 3:22:00 PM