Rebel Rescuer

So being that last Friday was a day off for me, I did what any good gal would do….I headed to the nearest card table.  But, I never actually made it to the tournament thanks to a little windfall (OK, not so little) that can only be described as miraculous.

Being that I was early for the tourney, I slipped a 20 to the first penny machine I could find.  Moments later they were hand-paying me a little over $1500.  And of course, while I was waiting for the Uncle Sam forms, etc I slipped another 20 into the machine next to it.  And moments later cashed a lovely $1300 out of that one.  I stayed for a few hours, and won little bits here and there….and never made it to a card table.  Most of this day’s lovely winnings will go into the rescue bank account aka “The Fund for Unwed Dog Mothers”.  We have Frankie’s babies and newbie Kylie (who also came into rescue sporting the pregnant tummy) so these funds will be used for them!!  YAY penny machines!!

On another note, I do believe that I’m turning into something of a domestic goddess.  Now I’ve always been a freak about cleaning, but that’s about as far as my “wifely duties” went.  But lately I’ve been feathering the nest like a Stepford Wife and having an OK time of it.  Granted, I still have a long way to go before I hit June Cleaver, but right now I think I’m a very firm and steady semi-goddess.  I even have a menu made out for this week that includes the use of the stove!  Ok, so I haven’t actually BOUGHT the groceries yet.  Babysteps, baby.

On yet another note, we are having an impromptu July 4th wingding at the House of Insanity.  It wasn’t really my idea, but pressure from the Matrix has me making lists, locating decorations, and checking here for the very best in party fare.  Again, not my idea.  I would’ve been perfectly happy to hide from the incessant heat in the basement all day….but the Matrix is also feeling very Man of the House lately and so wants to have everyone over.  I wonder if I shouldn’t buy a lace apron and a string of pearls?  Probably wouldn’t look good with a beer and a cig, would it?

And of course, big get-togethers mean what to do for entertainment?  I mean, I’m not one to sit around shooting the shit all day.  So I’ll have to come up with some sort of games and/or activities to occupy the partygoers while I hide in the basement, away from the heat. 

What the Matrix fails to understand is that by inviting his mom, he has taken a simple party and turned it into a three-day stress-fest extravaganza.  I mean, there’s the fridge to clean out (oh yeah, she’ll be looking), garnishing and glazing to be done, the perfect flowers in the perfect vases, a refresher lesson with the dogs on how NOT to bark at the MIL, you name it.  Oh no, it can’t ever be a simple party when the MIL is coming.  Why do I do this to myself?  Why not let her see how things really are at the House of Insanity?  I know, maybe she should come over tonight when I’m trying to wrangle dogs, mow the yard, feed gruel to four tiny rescue babies, answer emails, make vet appointments and do laundry…all at warp speed?  Because I’m an amateur Stepford Wife, remember?!