Monday again. Ho Hum. Running out of cute Monday titles. Obviously.

I got up at 4am. That is just wrong, people. I'm pretty sure that the world outside my house was actually stopped at that unGodly hour. I don't think any motion occured until 5:30. I'm pretty sure anyway.

I left my house at 5:45am. I picked up my sister, niece and nephew at 5:55am. We left for Tulsa at 6:15am. We arrived in Tulsa at 7:15am and absolutely had to pull over at a truck stop/travel plaza/get anything you'd ever want to eat in one city block kinda place to pee. TotOne and I were desperate. Upon leaving the McDonald's we ran across the parking lot and my daughter, being the graceful Olive Oyl look-alike she is, tripped over a curb and went sprawling onto the grass below. We laughed. A lot. She laid there in the dried grass, coat askew, gangly coltish legs in a rather creepy weird position, giggling her head off. At least the poor thing can laugh at herself. I always could, too. Like when I fell up the stairs going out of the old bandroom in junior high. More than once. I always have been able to laugh at my pathetic, clumsy-ass self. It's a gift.

We arrived at the dentist's office at 7:30 and only had to wait 15 minutes before they opened the door. We knew there was no way they'd actually see us that early, but at least we could let the obnoxious children out of the confines of the van. It was 7:45, the children had been up since 5:30 and they were so hyper I was fearing their heads were going to spontaneously combust at any second.

On the upside, the dentist was able to actually wiggle one of my daughter's molars. I gasped when he showed me proudly how that sucker just moved under the command of his shiny, pointy dental instrument. I said, "Oh no! She's not supposed to lose THAT one!" He laughed and said that the fact that the tooth is mobile is a good thing and patted me on the arm while I tried to quit hyperventilating. He said that means her headgear is being worn enough that it's actually moving her teeth. 'Bout damn time. By the time school starts in the fall she should be to where she'll only have to wear it at night. For the rest of her life. Oh well. By damn, she'll have pretty teeth.

My niece threw the most dramatic fit I've ever seen today before and while they cleaned her teeth. She is quite the drama queen. God lover 'er. She just likes to be dramatic, plain and simple. It unnerves my sister, because frankly it is kind of embarrassing. But seeing as how she isn't my child, I can turn my head and snicker shamelessly. I swear that child's going to end up on Broadway. Or at least Jerry Springer.

The boat is now safely anchored at my father's house. Right smack dab on the highway. The highway that leads right to the river. Halleluiah. The truck is now safely listed at sharpcar.com as well. Didn't even know such a place existed. Apparently at Ken's Farm and Home, they only had one particular kind of For Sale sign. It had a link at the bottom for sharpcar.com. Upon perusal of the sign and then the website, you get a free listing with the purchase of the .98 sign. Wow wow woweeee. It's listed. It may not get us a thing, but it's listed. It's also going to take a small trip to Wyandotte tonight to a guy's house who has an uncanny knack for selling vehicles. He sold Paul's nephew's truck in 3 hours. If only we could be that lucky.

My husband and his eating schedule on his days off are going to be the death of me. He eats at the complete opposite times the rest of the house does. The kids and I eat lunch every day at 11:30. Every day. He will undoubtedly, every day he's off, fix a huge breakfast at like 10:30. Then be hungry again at 4:00 and fix a sandwich. So then when I'm ready to make dinner at 5:30, he's not hungry. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. But if I don't make dinner, then by 7:00 he's pissed because there's nothing to eat. This has to end. I will be forced to murder him if it doesn't stop.

But I must say...he's wearing a turtleneck today. And he has always looked damn fine in a turtleneck for some reason. Until I met him and married him, he never wore anything but western shirts (Brush Poppers were at the height of fashion when we met)or t-shirts. So using my feminine wiles I convinced him to branch out to henleys, turtlenecks and Polo-type shirts. But the one that wins, hands down, is the turtleneck. Although...in the summer a tank top is pretty fine as well. He has a really sexy tribal type tattoo on his right bicep/tricep. Hubba hubba y'all. I love his arms, gotta say. Whew! I need a cold drink. And a cigarette.

Well, I'm off to make dinner! Even though he's not hungry. Grrrrr. It's Ladies' Night, though! So at 8:30 I'll be heading off to town to not win any money! Life is good.