Excuses, Colonel Sanders, My Kid Zippy, and a BDday Crisis

Holy crikeys, dear followers...I've been a very, very bad blogger.

Thankfully, I have excuses. Lots of them.

It is only half past Tuesday and I have already received multiple requests for the onslaught of RAGBRAI stories, whereby I typically make fun of everyone but myself and point out everyone's drunken mishaps but my own (because of course, I have NONE!)

A note about the RAGBRAI mayhem: these things take time to percolate and grow, not unlike fishing stories. They're coming...although for them to come to life with vivid color; I am also awaiting placing my dirty mitts on some images Keri took that should assist me since I cannot talk with my hands via blog and that makes things difficult for a gal like me.

There is also a trip to the L.A. that must be chronicled; where I hung out with my astonishingly tall, polite, and yet alligator tear wielding kid for a few days, fried my skin into something that would make Colonel Sanders proud, and deposited copious amounts of sand in my eardrums while watching skantily clad Europeans in speedos, among other things...

....like visiting Trader Joes, spending ridiculous amounts of money, on well...everything ($7 for a freaking water people!?), and introducing my kid to the wonder that is In & Out Burgers.

There is also a little bitta something I intend to write about a surprise encounter that has been since making my heart make a longing pitta-pat, a lot more sidesplitting, pee a little in your pants a little type laughs/stories, and the fact that I pulled something that closely resembled a corn plant (yes, the ENTIRE PLANT) out of my dog's ass this a.m. For the love of Pete. Or Sadie, as it was.

Cripes, I hadn't even had my coffee yet....and you might not have either, so I will spare you the details of that little pre-work bonding experience with my poor embarrassed puppy.

BUT alas, I will not start here nor there...I will start by sharing with you a video of my son, because:

1. I am dying over here without the little (okay BIG) fart not being within my hugging distance.

AND

2. He's freaking FAST.

3. Tomorrow, my baby...the child that God hilariously, and idiodically entrusted me with....
HE TURNS 10!!!

I cannot even begin to find the words to describe the crisis I am having about this.

Alas I just realized that this post...there is no hook here, there is no meat, not plot either...so I will just sign off, get back on that beautiful bike I stole from my friend Scooter and leave you with this:

T WINNING the 100 meter dash at the Hershey State/Regional Track Meet earlier this summer.

He qualified for this by winning the 100 meter dash at the local Hershey Track meet even earlier than that this summer. He won some other stuff too, but I will get to that later.



Happy, Happy 10th Birthday, Bug.
You have changed my heart in ways I never knew possible.

I love you to infinity and beyond....NOW GET YOUR BUTT HOME!