Round One
in Giggles on January 26, 2013
Well, I’ve lost an argument…technically, it wasn’t really an argument. It was more of a discussion with sarcasm, eye-rolling, metaphors (that went undetected) and one extremely forceful click of the disconnect button ending the Skype conversation. I felt sorry for my laptop. Truth be told, this discussion is not over. I merely conceded Round One.
Round Two shall commence soon.
Here’s the skinny: I got a phone call the other night from my sister-in-law, informing me that we, as in my husband, myself, our three kids, my brother-in-law, his wife and his daughter were ALL going to the upcoming Monster Jam truck pull here in Houston. Now, to give my SIL credit, she was laughing as she called me, knowing full well, this was NOT going to fly with me. For starters, I’m not a big fan of being told that I’m going to do something. Secondly, my sweet husband is away on business…again. However, this particular trip did not take him to West Texas or North Dakota; no, this trip took him to INDIA…as in across the stinking world India. Which means, he is slightly unavailable for a scheduling consultation about the epitome of a redneck recreational event. I informed my SIL that there was NO WAY I was going to Monster Jam 2013.
Apparently, I was wrong.
Fourteen hours later when my husband surfaced via Skype, I mentioned my little conversation with my SIL, and then my idea about turning the truck pull from a Family Fiasco into a Daddy Dilemma. I had no intention of going. I can, right now think of twenty-five other things I’d rather do besides watch a group of morons jump monster trucks over thirty-six 1970-model police-chase reject cars. I happened to mention that to Jeff, who then proceeded NOT to hear me. Evidently, the curry in the food over there has adversely affected his hearing. He said, “Babe, you’re a “proper redneck”. How can you NOT want to go?”
Let’s pause right there, for a moment to examine that claim, shall we?
I am not offended by being called a Redneck. If the boot fits…buy two pair! I hunt with two different guns…while wearing pink camo pants, and a bling-ed out shirt depicting a buck with earrings. No lie. For two full weeks after Jeff bought his truck, I wouldn’t let him drive it…because I was behind the wheel (of a 4×4, extended cab, long bed F-250, diesel). Don’t sneak up on me because more often than not, I’m packing a .380 in a spot you’d NEVER believe! Always call me before showing up at my house, especially when Jeff is out of town…that same .380 is under my pillow. I love a good boat and RV show, and don’t even get me started on the gun show or the rodeo! Now with that being said, even I have limits as to what I will attend and where I will go.
And I have NO DESIRE to go to Monster Jam.
Perhaps my aversion is so strong because of the way I was informed of my participation in this event. You know, you do catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. So, I’m planning my second attack very carefully. Jeff will be home tomorrow, which gives me five days to prove my case against NASCAR gone wild. Granted, Round One didn’t go as I had planned. I don’t often have to do things that I don’t want to do. For Round Two, well let’s just say, the challenge has been issued.
Here’s hoping YOUR Round One falls in your favor!