Him: “I told you I’m reffing (short for refereeing) a game at 9:30, right?”
Her: “Nope. In fact the kids and I already discussed this morning that you PROBABLY had a game to ref and you just hadn’t told any of us about it.”
Him: “What?! No, I definitely told you.”
Her: “Maybe that was your OTHER exwife” (Note: there is no other exwife)
Him: “No, I told you. I definitely told you.”
Her: “No you definitely did NOT tell me, and the kids will confirm it.”
Him: “Well I told you I’m reffing another game during the boychild’s game, right?”
Her: “What?! You’re missing your son’s last game?”
Him: “I told you this.”
Her: “Omigod. You so did NOT tell me this. After you just talked last night about how confident he’s gotten this year and how much he enjoys this, and you’re not even going to be there?”
Him: “I don’t think he cares if I’m there.”
Her: “What?! He wants his parents there. Are you kidding me?”
Him: “Well, I’m reffing the game. It’s the Under-14 Girls’ final, and I’m the ref.”
Her: “So you’re going to go be Mr. Important and ref a game you want to see rather than see your son’s last game of the season.”
Him: “Well if I don’t do that, then the kids will have to sit through another game I’ll be reffing.”
Her: “I think you need to set your priorities for your kids.”
Him (turning to boychild, who only half heard this conversation): “Do you want me to watch your game?”
Boychild: “Why wouldn’t I?” (typical teenaged Asperger’s response)
Him: “I don’t know. I have a game to ref.”
Boychild: “During my game? Why?”
It did continue for a while after that, concluding with Him stomping off in a huff. But the good news is that Him is coming to Boychild’s game. The bad news is that everyone is cranky and snappish at each other and that the kids have to watch yet another random game later that their dad is now reffing. Plus I have no idea how “reffing” should actually be spelled. It looks awful. But so does “refing”. It looks like Re-Fing. And there is no way I’m spelling refereeing every time. The English language.
I’m doing grades now.
But first, some wool crazy quilt pictures from the store where I “take classes” (sit around and grade papers while others pretend to sew).
I want to do some of this.
In my spare time
Oh. That reminds me. The kids have tried to get on my website (this one) while they are at school, and it is blocked because of “nudity in folk art.” Really. I knew it was blocked, but I didn’t get that message. That’s funny. There’s actually a category for nudity in folk art. I’m folk art? OK. Whatever.
November 23, 2008 at 5:11 am |
The wool CQs are more fun to piece because you don’t have to worry about the seams being turned under. You can get stranger shapes to the patches and there is nothing more in the comfort category then working with wool.
Hope this next week is a better one for you.
November 23, 2008 at 8:00 am |
I believe the key word on the block is nudity. (nudity, nudity, nudity) Just want to make sure this post is blocked…
By the way – I didn’t know I was pretending! Thanks for clarifying. Maybe that is why the stupid quilt isn’t done yet?
November 23, 2008 at 6:10 pm |
Is “Nudity in Folk Art” different than “Nudity in Ancient Art” or Nudity in Postmodern Art” or “Nudity in Performance Art?” Does defining the type of art it matter? OK, maybe we don’t want to answer that. It is all pretty funny though.
November 24, 2008 at 6:11 am |
nudity? the horrors!