Tomorrow is our neighborhood picnic.
You would think that since it is a holiday weekend, people would be gone but I am pretty sure they cut their plans short for this fiasco.
We ( I ) always make to sure to avoid it as we (me) are anti-social and the thought of holding deep conversations with snooty people about if there are indeed coyotes in the neighborhood, the amount of potholes in the roads, how tall our grass is supposed to be, why my Jack Russell is continually allowed to dig out and terrify my scaredy-cat old fart neighbor, who's electric bill is higher, who got a new roof and why there are so many damn skunks makes me want to commit bad crimes.
I am sure they would not care to hear about the fact that my husband shoots his 22 at mole holes in the front yard, the loud curse words that echo through the neighborhood when packing my son for college not once but twice in a weeks time, that we will never be able to keep the dog from digging out- he is the master, we sometimes sit on the back balcony naked and look at the stars while we drink beer, that my dog swims in the fishpond to cool off resulting in more profanity at a high volume, or that I threw a dead possum and a dead rabbit over the fence into the neighbors yard (so the dogs wouldn't eat it) and threw a dead mole into the yard of the man who is scared of my dog. Also, my nephew pooped in the front yard by the mailbox last spring because we got home and I had forgotten my garage door opener was in my car which was locked and the keys were in the house and he had to go.
We all have our secrets.
Tomorrow it is being hosted by my next door neighbors.
They have a huge yard (like us), a pool and no large trees in between us to hide us from watchful peepers that may want to see what we could be doing that would interfere with such a good time.
The President of the neighborhood (yes, it is that kind of neighborhood) always has the party at his house.
We missed it last year (our first year here) and oh golly, I had to hear about the white elephant gift, the auction and who had the best potato salad plus other gossip about people who went and made fools of themselves.
Part of me wants to go for some funny blog fodder but the smarter part of me wants to rent a different car so nobody sees me pull up the driveway tomorrow after work and expects me to hop the fence into Funland.
Mr. Funny will be home all day and I suspect will at some point, venture outside to water something or feed the fish or just enjoy the day.
He will see people having fun and realize that he is missing out by living life here with us.
I am hoping and praying that his social tendencies do not allow him to so much as wave hello or it will surely be the end.
He will start introducing himself to people, telling them we own _________restaurant, all about the kids and dogs, our bigger and better fish pond and how much firewood we have in store and the next thing you know, he will be next years new president.
That alone makes me want a divorce.
I must not allow him outdoors tomorrow between the hours of 11 and 4.
I am gonna need some good duct tape, some strong rope and an accomplice, plus a disguise in case the other options fail and I need to hide out for a spell.
The Little One sleeps a lot so he is out.
The dogs do not have thumbs so again, no go.
I might be able to get one of the new neighbors (also not going) to help me out.
I am going to lose sleep over this I assure you.
Pray for the best!
I am an expert at procrastination and finding this website might have made my day.
Here is an example: