Ranting. Raving. Oh yeah, I'm harsh.

So, this afternoon my mind starting going a thousand miles a minute - all about posting ideas. Unfortunately, I had to go do snackbar duty down at the Little League field. Have I mentioned that H. is playing baseball this year? Anywho, it has come to my attention that whenever I have something I have to do that I don't want to do, that's when I get all excited about something else. Like posting on my sadly neglected blog. Could these ideas have come to me this morning at 8:30am? Of course not. It's gotta be right before I have to leave. I'm already not really looking forward to this, because, pook, I gotta leave the house. And interact with people. Eh. And the whip cream (we haven't gotten to the cherry, yet) on top is that I could have avoided it. The team mom hadn't called me back about when I was scheduled to work. Not wanting to be seen as a deadbeat parent, I called her. Duh. And to skim over part of some of this increasingly boring story, one mom was late (but when she told me where she was commuting from, all was forgiven) and the other two didn't show. Had to call the team mom, who graciously came over, but with short, blonde, heely wearing spawn in tow. Uh, kid, get out of the way. And then the very annoying kid of one of the moms who didn't show came in to "help". POOK. People, we're busy here. The Little League watching public want their nachos and hot dogs. Stop getting in my way. Stop touching the money. Stop asking for free food. Get a personality, then call me. (wow. that was harsh.) If you couldn't tell by now, I guess I should confess that there are many other people's kids who make me nuts. I have no doubt that those of you who have kids and read my blog have, as much as possible, taught your offspring good public manners and actually pay attention to them and don't let them run wild and irritate me. I have faith in you. OH, another example: (Little League, again) (I must be boring you to death, but I've got to get this out of my head, where it is festering and taking on a life of its own. And destroying the tenuous hold I have on my anger management issues.) Another little blonde girl. Being raised by grandparents - who let her completely ignore them - runs wild. WILD. And completely sasses her grandmother. But lets face it, this woman would be the first to get voted off the island. She "cheers" all the players on with helpful comments like: "Be a hitter" and "Throw it in his glove, honey!" in a voice that, as one of the other parents so aptly put it, makes you want to eat glass. She. Makes. Me. Want. To. Curse. Thank you Grandma Obvious. Now shut the h-e-double hockey sticks up. I think it. I don't say it. That would be rude. One of these days, though, my eyes will starting spinning like a slot machine and I'll make with the scary, possessed voice. (Let me know if you'd like to hear it - it'll give me an excuse to audio post. Cuz obviously my brain isn't churning out the witty repartee. Uh - can anyone tell me how to make the little accent marks over my more foreign words?)Maybe I should take up kickboxing or something, cuz I'm wound up tighter than a... um... uh... darn, I could really use one of those descriptive Southern phrases right now...

p.s. There is currently no accompanying picture (and you know I love posting pictures) because Blogger has chosen this moment to mess with me. Uh oh... there go the eyeeeessssssssss...