Saturday, August 27, 2005

Redneck Friday Night

Last night was the demolition derby. We attended. As spectators, not as drivers. Yes, my husband and I went to the derby and took our children and sat in the stands and just watched.

We got there really early and sat backwards in the bleachers watching the typical last-minute welding and banging and clanking and such that always goes on in the pits. The pits that we were in last year. *sigh* So we sat there and watched and pointed out things to the kids, etc. At one point Paul leaned back and rested his back against my chest and turned to nuzzle my neck. It was HOT and humid and I don't like being touched when I'm sweating, but he's not one for public displays so I allowed it. He began speaking, his breath hot on my neck, I closed my eyes in anticipation of the sweet words he was going to say to me and then I heard, "Man. I sure wish I could've gotten that car ready in time."

I shoved him hard in the back, nearly knocking him and Kady's snow cone into the muddy pits below the bleachers. I said, "You had PLENTY of time to get ready it's just that you CHOSE not to! So don't sit there and be all whiny and sad that you're not driving because you're just a ... a ... WEENIE!" At my outburst a whole herd of rednecks turned to look at us. I just glared at them all and they turned away, scared of the wrath they had just witnessed by the curly-headed sweaty chick over by the judge's stand. Paul mumbled something that I didn't understand and I didn't ask for clarification because frankly, I didn't care. Weenie.

I wasn't really mad at him and he wasn't offended by my harsh words. He knew I was right. So things went along normally, we discussed different cars, visited with some of the guys we got to know before last year's derby, got some tips on where to find a Grand Prix trannie and yelled repeatedly at our children that if they kept standing up in the bleachers and ended up falling and breaking theirs legs we didn't want to hear them squalling about it.

Finally the announcer asked us to stand for the National Anthem. We couldn't see a flag so we just kind of stood there looking off in the same direction everyone else was. I'm pretty sure we were actually being respectful to the Zipper that was whirling screaming, cotton candy-laden people just on the other side of the arena. Kady stood there waving her arms, "directing" the music. I didn't know she was doing it till she hit my leg and I looked down to find her with both arms high in the air, eyes closed, obviously really getting into it. Then the announcer said, "Folks, let's just have a moment of silence for those who have lost their lives fighting for our country." So I put my hand over Kady's mouth, Paul slipped his hat back off his head and I guarantee you the announcer didn't even take another breath before he said, "Alright folks, the derby will begin shortly!" Paul kind of laughed and said, "Was that a full moment?" I said, "Well, I guess a moment is kind of relative."

We made the kids wear tennis shoes last night because sandals at the fairgrounds is never a good thing. Trust me, I wore flip flops last night. Yuck. Well, Sam hasn't worn tennis shoes all summer. He's either barefoot or in his flipflops all the time. I was absolutely mortified when I happened to look down at his feet propped up on the seat in front of me and saw that his socked-covered baby toe was sticking out the side of his shoe! I told him that we'd get him some new shoes as soon as I possibly could. He shrugged and said, "Okay. Whatever." Abby would've died a thousand deaths before she'd have even worn them out of the house, but the boy, eh, who cares.

When the derby started all three kids were completely still. Save for the occasional "Oooh!" or "Oh!" or "Smash 'im!!" they were mesmerized by what was going on directly in front of them. Abby sat enthralled, more quiet than the other two. After the first heat she leaned over to me and said, "How old do I have to be before you'll let me drive in one?" I said, "Fourteen." She said, "Okay. That's only 5 more years. I can wait." She's her momma's girl.

There were storms in the forecast, but there have been storms in the forecast for a solid week and a half now and we haven't seen much action, so we really didn't pay them too much attention. But by the time the fourth heat was underway, the sky was pitch black and the lighting was getting closer. If it had just been a matter of rain, we could've just moved to the covered stands, but the lightning was scary. While there was a break in the action (The announcer said, "They're gonna take a short break so if y'all need to go to the bathroom, now'd be the time." That just struck me funny for some reason. He could've at least said, "Visit the concession stand or something.") Paul and I discussed the safety of staying or the responsibility of getting our children out of harm's way. We finally decided that the kids' safety was well, yeah, our responsibility.

When we told the kids it was time to go you should've heard the gnashing of teeth and the wailing the ensued. We had to all but pry their fingers from the bleachers. Abby and Sam have been to several derbies, but we never sat in the pit before. Kady had never seen one and was MAD that we were making her leave before it was over. Of course, Paul was just getting mad that they were whining and crying and begging and I could see that things weren't going to be pretty so I said, "Hey! Let's just go to Wal*Mart and buy everyone some new shoes!" That shut 'em up.

Of course, Sonic is right on the way to Wal*Mart so we stopped and got a soda. Sam said, "You are SUCH a great mom!" as I handed him a Dr. Pepper at 9 o'clock at night. I said, "Yeah, seems I'm the greatest mom ever when I'm giving you what you want." Abby said, "Welllll...yeah. So give us what we want more often and we'll tell you you're awesome more often."

At Wal*Mart Paul took the kids to the fish tanks while I picked out some new socks for Sam. They were right across an aisle from where I was. Kady came running over to me and said, "Oh Momma!! You gotta see dis!!!" So I walked over to the fish tanks and she was standing in front of one particular tank, shifting from one foot to the other excitedly. She said, "Look! He's not moving!! Awwww. I'm going to call you No Move-y." Paul caught my eye and we both laughed. I said, "Sweetie, if he's not moving, you might wanna call him Corpse-y." She said, "Okay! Hi Corpse-y!"

All three kids got new sneakers and Paul and I got arch supports. Man, it sucks being old. I gazed wistfully upon all of the adorable heeled winter shoes and boots as I dropped my old lady arch supports into the cart and wheeled off to pick out some calcium for my upcoming bone-loss and figured I'd better start scoping out a delectable brand of fiber cereal.

On a lighter note, we ran into Jeff, the guy who gave me the Grand Prix that is missing a trannie and a distributor cap and needs four new tires. He asked if I was running and I said no. He said, "Yeah, I heard you had a hard time getting any car to work for ya. Sorry." I shrugged and said, "Eh, it wasn't meant to be. But next month - I am SO driving. Even if I have to get out there on a bicycle!" He said, "So what all was wrong with the Grand Prix?" I informed him that the trannie was completely gone and that it also didn't have a distributor cap. He kind of grinned and said, "Oh. I didn't know the trannie was gone. And also, I just realized the other day, the drive shaft is sitting at Dad's shop." Hmm... I guess we'd have figured it out eventually. So he said he thought he knew where he could find a trannie, said he'd personally get a distributor cap for it and get the drive shaft if I could come up with four tires. Heck YEAH I can come up with four tires.

A friend of Paul's called this morning and said he'd get the Mustang that Andy gave us over to the shop where he works and he and Paul would finish up what needed to be done to it so that Paul can drive next month. Then he asked what I needed. I told him that if we could come up with all the parts, I had a car that needed to be Frankenstein'd together. He said, "Sis, you get 'em together and get 'em to me and I'll build you a derby car." I think I love him.

Three weeks. We have three weeks. I'm trying not to get my hopes too high just yet. You see how this month's turned out. But in the meantime I'm gonna air up the tires on Paul's bike.

5 comments:

Hillbilly Mom said...

Ha! "Wheeled off to pick up some calcium for my upcoming bone loss." You made me laugh out loud again. I've got to get a life.

I would ask about how you're going to adorn your future waist-boobs, but you've made it clear that THAT ain't gonna happen!

~April~ said...

Should we start wagers now for whether or not Mr. Diva will pussy out again for the next derby?

Redneck Diva said...

HillbillyMom-But if you get a life who will I laugh at! I don't have a life either dammit!

Oh no, there is no cause to even think about waist-boob adornments because they will be somewhere up around my freakin' CHIN.

April-I put a twenty on him pussin' out. And I think it's gonna be hilarious when he does because all weekend we've seen TONS of his friends and I've made damn sure to talk about how I'm driving in the derby and how I'm going to kick his ass and so now when he wimps out all of his friends are gonna rag on him for sure. I love being evil.

MrsCoach2U said...

I left a comment and now I can't find it. Must be the memory....

What year Mustang? I've been looking for one and if it's the right one, I'll find Mr. Diva a replacement, hell I'll give Mr. Diva my car to use in trade. I'll throw in the boat, 5th wheel, a slightly used blue bucket calf and a Beast costume for good measure.

Redneck Diva said...

Mrs.Coach-It's a 70-something. But it's been through a couple of derbies and a tough truck (I know it's not a truck. They're rednecks remember?) competition, so I doubt you'd want it. Although, if you still wanna trade, we could probably work something out.