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6:34 a.m. - 2001-05-06


Okay ... so idle threats won't work.

Therefore I'll just join everyone else in Diaryland in wishing you a fond farewell.

Farewell, m'dear.

And I mean that fondly.

As I said in my email to you, I hope you either reconsider or at least check in from time to time to let us know how the life of Diaryland's most unpredictable housewife is going.

And finally, I have one last thing to say about it ...

...Goddamned Sims... MORE last thing to say ... I hope all your Sims die within a week and you have to come back to us.

Sorry. I'm a greedy, selfish bastard when it comes to my buds.

I've gotta make this quick because I have a men's breakfast to be at in an hour.

Let's recap the last two days in Uncle Bob's life.

FRIDAY: Andy had his six month checkup. He's now 17.7 lbs and 28.5 inches long. The doctor said he should turn out to be a tall kid and very adapt at basketball. Or he could just be a gangly geek with a faceful of acne. One or the other. My money's on the latter.

He got one shot on Friday and he was SOOOO cool. As Mama held his arms down, I held Winnie the Pooh in front of his face and the nurse jabbed the needle in his leg and pulled it back out, he just laid there. It wasn't until the nurse started putting a band aid on his leg that he started wondering "What the hell's going on here?" He started to get fussy and I said "What are you getting fussy about?" He couldn't really decide what it was, so he quit getting fussy.

Now THAT'S too cool. He got a shot and didn't even cry.

That's MYYYYY boy.

The tall, pimply kid. My boy.

Friday was a slack day at work. The boss flew up to the Kentucky Derby to gamble our payroll away. The boss' assistant stayed home to screw her husband all day for their 28th anniversary. Leaving us peons to run the business.

Meaning...I spent about three hours in the office and the rest of the time either at doctor's offices or in local bookstores reading Rolling Stone.

Friday night, I picked up my boy Eddie Lavoie and we drove up to my church to get some tables for him to borrow for a yard sale on Saturday. Did that, then went home where I was faced with a hungry wife.

We were both in t-shirts and shorts and wanted to go out to eat. Neither of us wanted to change either, so we went to Steak 'n' Shake where we could look like slobs and not really care.

Except Susie saw like five people from her past in there. And we looked like country bumpkins.

Two pretty cool things happened within seconds of each other which brought us great viewing pleasure at Steak 'n' Shake.

First, a waiter spilled an entire Coke all over some kid. It drenched his ass. The kid was maybe 11 years old, wearing a gray t-shirt that was soaked. Pretty amusing.

Then, at an adjacent table, as everyone craned their necks to see what had happened, a little boy, maybe two years old in a booster seat, stood up to see what the problem was and his booster seat as well as he fell to the floor.

Granted...that wasn't too funny, being a parent now and all.

But the kid was alright, just really scared shitless. He cried pretty loud and I kept saying "Shhhhh! You're alright." But I don't think he believed me.

Once Daddy put his booster seat back up on his chair, Daddy made sure he BUCKLED the booster seat to the actual chair to avoid such a mess again.

Shoulda done it the first time there, White Trash Daddy of the Year.

Three waitresses came up to Andy and stuck their goddamned fingers in his fist and said "Oooooo, he's so strong!"

Damn, I get tired of that. That's the EASIEST way to pass germs to an infant... put your finger in his hand. Here's a tip, people...if you HAVE to touch someone else's baby, touch anything but their hands and face. You'll make a squeamish parent very happy.

Especially if you're a waitress who has been using the same nasty rag to wipe down tables with for several hours without washing your hands. A waitress' hand is just CRAWLING with germs and I'd appreciate it if waitresses just cooed at my kid and not pass on every single nasty germ they have to him.

Yes...I'm a germophobe. Bite my sanitary ass.

SATURDAY ... since my boy E. Lavoie was having a yard sale in his subdivision and it was a community yard sale, we decided to get up early and go see if we could find some cool junk for Andy.

So by 7 a.m., we were in the van, putt-putting over to Eddie's side of town when we saw the huuuuuuge yard sale at the world's largest Methodist church which is only a mile from our home.

So we stopped there first. We stayed there almost two hours, finding all kindsa crap for Andy. Lotsa Pooh stuff, some light-up telephones, shit that made sounds, etc.

We had a good time.

And now he's crying.

And it's time for me to get in the shower.

And ...and...and...

I guess that's it.

I'll miss ya Annie.

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