Wednesday, August 24, 2005

It has been decided. Shalom.

Mr. Diva will be the driver reprezentin' the Diva clan on Friday.

I mulled it over all day yesterday and just couldn't decide what I wanted to do. When he got home from work, he looked so tired. I asked if he was going to the shop to work on the car or what. He sighed and said, "Yeah. I guess." He called Andy to see if he could help him work on it. I know darn good and well that he was only doing it for me. He was so tired that if he'd been doing it for himself he'd have stayed in that recliner. So he gathered up some casino clothes (last night was Men's Night) and prepared to go back to town to the shop.

I told him to sit down, I wanted to talk to him. I told him I wanted him to drive Friday night and that I'd rather sit in the pits with the kids and watch him. He looked at me and grinned and said, "You want me to? Oh you are such a liar." I explained that really I wasn't confident enough in the car yet, we didn't have a sitter for the kids and I totally handle them better in situations like that. I mean, he's my pit guy, his focus is on me when I'm driving. The last thing he'd need is three kids to keep an eye on as well. If he's driving I am SO not a pit chick. So he sat there quiet for a minute, shot me a sidelong glance and then just gave me the biggest smile ever and said, "Wellllll . . . if you insist."

Gosh, hon, don't make me twist your arm or anything.

He jumped on the phone again and called Richie to see if he could pit for him. He was so excited. I'm glad I gave this one to him.

He works the late shift tonight, so he really can't work on it after work, but tomorrow he has the early shift and then he's off all day on Friday. There's really very little that needs to be done and since he's driving it's not going to be painted titty pink, so it won't need painted. I think we can pull it together. Ha. I say "we" like I have anything remotely to do with it. I have a pretty insignifigant role in this one - I will just sit in the stands and shovel funnel cakes, snow cones and soda into my children while their father willingly gets smashed repeatedly.

Plus - he won enough money last night at the Big Fancy Casino to cover all of his derby costs and now I can take MY money and go get a tattoo!!

It's gonna be a perfect redneck weekend.


Queen Of Cheese said...

Good Job Diva. Very proud of you for giving him the derby. Can we call him just when he's having a really good time and ask him when the HELL he's coming home like he did you on GNO. HEHEHEHEEHE

Sam said...

*pats Diva on the back* Go get your tattoo, then let it heal and show us for HNT!

Redneck Diva said...

Mrs.Coach- OOOH you are just full of good ideas!! Putting 55 gallon barrels in Mom's yard, harassing my husband - if I were a lesbian that hangs out in the Elks Lodge I'd probably want to marry you. Or at least tell you you're pertier'n a pink dress.

Sam-That's actually my very intention!! I may even post one of the actual tattooing for HNT as well.

Queen Of Cheese said...

I'm serious, if we collect enough barrels we could freak her out for days!!! Plus, she'd be laughing so hard once she got over being shocked she "probably" won't press charges!

Redneck Diva said...

Mrs. Coach-I say let's do it. It'll be wild fun and certainly not something she'll soon forget! I'll put Mr. Diva in charge of rounding up some barrels.

MUAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I love being evil with you. And I'm also really glad that you're my friend, not my enemy.

Rebecca said...

Hi Diva,
Oooh, that is so cute, you have let him have a drive, big hugs.
Speaking of the barrel thing, I heard on the news yesterday that the new season of the Sopranos, they are looking to hang body parts from the boots of New York taxi's to advertise the show. Maybe you could get a fake arm and hang it from the boot of the Derby car? That would freak mum out a bit.

Redneck Diva said...

Rebecca-I LOVE that idea! When I drive in next month's derby I am defnitely going to hang a body part out the back. That'll be a hoot. Maybe it'll make 'em fear me. I mean, it's hard to fear a titty pink car - unless there's a body part hanging from it somewhere.

Oh and Mom doesn't come to the derbies. She loathes them more than she loathes blogging. And that's a lot.

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