This Memorial Day the short people and I opted to just hang out because we were too
*I'd like to cover her in EVOO and light her face on fire.
No problem! I mean, we're talking about some burgers, some hot dogs, maybe a little potato salad. . .how hard can that be? Yeah, you can probably guess where this is going. So, without further ado, I present my list for how to celebrate Memorial Day:
1. Boil potatoes for salad. Overboil, burn hand with steam, curse like a longshoreman with Tourette's, and drop potatoes on floor. Recook potatoes, dice, mix with a shit ton of mayonnaise and herbs, and place in Tupperware container. Forget Tupperware and allow it to stand at room temperature for hours until potato salad develops bacteria the size of raccoons. Ponder the risk of an agonizingly painful bout of botulism before scraping potato salad into garbage disposal.*
*Bonus points if one of your short people is there to lecture you about wasting food.
2. Form hamburger patties. Promptly drop one on the floor. While picking up and returning to grill, notice your child watching you with quiet disapproval. When you remind him that he once ate nachos off of the floor at 7-11 try not to be offended when he suggests that their floors are cleaner. Consider mopping floor. Spray Febreze on floor and skate around in your socks instead. Forget burgers until fire alarm begins wailing. Simultaneously calm hysterical child with autism while whacking at smoke alarm with Rachael Ray's book.*
*Huh. . .I guess it IS good for something.
Scrape black, industrial-grade carbon from burgers and place on buns. Cut burger in half to find them so undercooked that they leap from the plate and begin cavorting on the ground like otters. Make emergency run to McDonald's.
3. Suggest "fun, old-timey" activity of making homemade ice cream. Borrow hand-crank ice cream maker from friend. Spend three times what you would on a pint of Ben & Jerry's in ingredients and start cranking. Continue to crank. Suggest short people help crank and then notice they got bored five minutes ago and are now engrossed in an episode of "Good Luck, Charlie". Turn off TV. Endure ten minutes of whining. Return to ice cream. Crank. Crank again. Continue cranking while "ice cream" remains as runny as the food on Strom Thurmon's lunch tray. Realize that perpetual motion does not in fact create frozen delicacies, freezers do. Further realize that hand-crank ice cream makers are probably what caused the Great Depression. Make emergency run to Baskin-Robbins.
4. Suggest alternative "fun, old-timey" activity like a sack race. Realize the only bags you have are from H&M. Watch children hobbling over grass with pink and silver garment bags bunched around their ankles. Realize someone is probably watching as well and placing a call to Dick Cheney as said activity could probably replace waterboarding at Gitmo. Scurry children back inside while watching over shoulder for approaching CPS agents.
5. Locate roadside stand operated by man who has obviously spent more on tattoos than dental hygiene. Buy fireworks. Fill children's heads with stories of noise and color that will rival a Zepplin laser-light show. Place fireworks on ground. Light fuse and scurry away to a safe distance. Watch as fuse goes out. Relight fuse and run away again. Watch fuse go out again. Continue to do wind sprints back and forth with Bic lighter like a deranged Olympic torch bearer until fuse finally stays lit. Race to safe distance and cover ears dramatically. Watch as fuse burns down, firework emits a pale cloud of smoke the size of a nectarine and emits a quiet "Pfffffft..." like a ferret passing gas. Worry children will be disappointed. Turn around to see children went back inside ten minutes ago and are now downloading pictures of iCarly from the internet.
6. Walk back inside and apologize to children for shitty Memorial Day. Listen as 9 year old says "I know what we should do to REALLY celebrate Memorial Day." Spend remainder of day placing handmade red poppies on soldier's graves. Hug your children. Remember the sacrifices of the brave men and women who fight each day to keep us safe and free. Count your blessings. Count them again. Never forget.