Sigh

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My sons father called me. He rarely has contact and it’s usually not a good call. He has demons that he just can’t conquer. I have begged, prayed and cried but he just can’t win his battle. He said he bought new motorcycle  stickers and by the way, I don’t have money to get our son a birthday gift. I said why did you buy the stickers? You know what day he was born. He said he’s sorry, and can I give him money so he can buy a gift. He knows I will. Not for him but for our son. Sigh. 

Where am I going

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My kids wanted to go see a country concert last night. I agreed we should go. How could I not go, my kids wanted me to go with them. Soon they might not.  I was on the phone and mentioned the concert to my brother. 

I said “we are going to see a concert tonight, Angelina Ballerina”

My daughter said “it’s Kelsea Ballerini. Angelina Ballerina is a child’s book. About a mouse”

I laughed and said “Whoops. It’s kinda close, sort of”.

She said “Nope. Not one bit”       but I saw her smile, even though she tried not to. 

The pilot said sit down

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I was on what felt like a long flight home to LA. The pilot told everyone to remain seated, he was expecting turbulence. A man in front of me stood up in the isle and started stretching. It appeared that he was trying to do the splits. Then he bent his leg at the knee and pulled his foot towards his butt. The pilot repeated his announcement to please be seated. The man stretching in the isle said “I thinks that’s being said to me” then he bent his other leg behind him and pulled his foot toward his butt. He continued his stretch in spite of the announcement. When asked to sit down by a flight attendant he sat down and took out a container full of spaghetti and meatballs. He took out three plates and divided the pasta and meatballs onto the plates. He passed out the plates and I watched his child eat, spill and mash his meal. Did I mention it was a long flight?

Breakfast buffet 3

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Another day at a hotel with a breakfast buffet. I’m actually looking forward to being home, my pop tarts in the cupboard are looking darn good about now. I decided to have the “make your own” waffle. I tried to fill the “waffle measuring cup” with waffle batter but no batter came out, it must have been empty. There was only strawberry waffle batter so I decided to try it. I poured the batter in the waffle iron and closed the lid. A bright red clock on the waffle iron started counting down, two minutes thirty seconds until it was done. A man came over and tried to get batter. I told him only strawberry is available and that I’d be done in one minute and thirty seconds and gestured to the red timer. I looked away for a second and the man had opened the waffle iron. I explained that my waffle wasn’t done yet. He said “my bad” and walked away. I stuffed my mangled waffle back in the iron, let it cook and ate it while I  thought about writing this blog post and going home.