A wonderfully ordinary day

We had bratwurst patties for dinner tonight.  Yes, I said bratwurst patties.  As in, “bratwurst, without all that silly sausage casing to slow you down.” It was every bit as awesome as you might imagine.

We had Pepsi Next to drink, which should be called Pepsi Compromise.  “You want to avoid sugar because it’s bad for your teeth and blood sugar and artificial sweeteners because they’ll rot your brain? Try Pepsi Next. It’s got both! Just in smaller doses!”

I’ve been thinking about food an awful lot lately. My strawberry patch survived the hail, and some of them are starting to pink up. They’re not all perfectly strawberry-shaped like the ones in the supermarket. Past experience tells me they’ll taste better than those, assuming I can keep the ants and The Girl away from them.

Speaking of The Girl, I went to a Mother’s Day presentation at her school this morning. Her class recited “Love You Forever.” She was one of the only speakers who didn’t look at her note card even once. We made a foam picture frame together, and she served me a muffin and apple juice. We also got our picture taken in front of the school (we’ll get the picture later to put in the frame we made.) As the lady was taking our picture, she noticed my Marilyn Monroe t-shirt.

“Do you like Marilyn?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. And I do–I just watched Niagara a few weeks ago.

“Have you been watching Smash?”

“No. I probably should.”

I always feel awkward on the rare occasions I get to go to the kids’ school things. Even in parenthood, there are still cliques at school. I’m not as polished and pulled together as the “business moms,” in their hose and heels. I wonder if they’re stressed that they’re away from the office, or relieved.

I lack the confident familiarity that the PTO moms have, in their polo shirts and khaki shorts. They all know each other, and they all know all the kids. And I’m probably a little too mainstream for the “weird moms.” My hair and clothes are occasionally a little punk, but I lack obvious piercings and tattoos.

I am a mom without a country.

But I do have a couple of pretty amazing kids.

The Boy has informed us that he’s now got a bona fide Girlfriend, who attends his school. They’re both going on a choir field trip to Holiday World soon. It must be love–he’s started showering without prompting again. He wanted to take her to the Drive In, but since (A) he doesn’t own a car or a license, and (B) ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? That’s going to be a “No.” I have not pointed out to him that since he just lost his phone again, and school is winding to a close, he may have some trouble maintaining that relationship over the summer. I’m just going to enjoy the non-moodiness while it lasts.

I also colored my hair red. I was getting bored with the brown, even with the occasional purple streaks. Blond is too much maintenance. Black is the only color that looks just completely wrong on me; believe it or not, platinum blond and purple didn’t look as strange with my complexion as that flat black did.

I started reading Catching Fire this week, as well as Grave Peril. I’m enjoying the Harry Dresden series so far, although it was a bit odd when Harry himself @ replied to me on Twitter. I’ve tweeted as a battery, a bra and a bottle of bourbon in a professional capacity; I guess a fictional character isn’t that odd.

Sometimes my life seems so ordinary, I worry that I’m boring you reader friends. But it’s these moments of calm small town life with minimal drama that I enjoy most, and need to remember when things get crazy. Other times, I look at some of the unbelievably odd stuff that happens to me, and think “no one is ever going to believe this.”

So I guess it’s good that I post both. I hope you’re all having wonderfully odd and ordinary experiences, too.

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