A few things


It’s officially summer in Oklahoma, which means that OF COURSE it’s time for our air conditioner to go kaput.

The A/C guy was late in getting around to our place, so it was two days of sleeping in 80 degree weather, which is most definitely a First World Problem.

On the second night, I was feeling, shall we say, less than charitable about the whole situation. In fact, perhaps I was a wee bit grumpy. And sweaty. Simon, who was attempting to not be a victim and instead choose joy (hahaaaa) sweetly suggested that we open the windows so that the fresh dusty Oklahoma winds might calm our savagely hot bodies.

“Fine. Hrmph,” I grumble.

So he opens the window in the bathroom, and wrenches the larger one in the bedroom open. Grumpily, I turn off the light, leaving Simon in the dark with the light of his iPhone where he was perusing the Facebooks.

It was a few minutes later that I heard a sound, like whirring wings of a bug.  “What the –”

We flick the light on, and it was JUST LIKE the Big Roach Problem SNL skit, except instead of roaches, it was junebugs.

That’s right. June bugs. Stuck on either side of us on the headboard.

We shut the windows after that.really-unsure

The next day I’d decided I’d had about enough of that, so we packed up and headed out to my parents’ house.  We spent a few days swimming and hanging out, and even brought along my nephew Luke for the fun.

Yesterday morning as we preparing to pack up, Mom decided that she couldn’t send either boys home dirty. So it was time for the ritual hair washing in the sink.  The photo above is the look on Jude’s face as he watched Luke get his hair scrubbed and my mom is saying, “See Jude? It’s so easy, Luke could fall asleep.”  HAAAA I cannot stop laughing. Riiiight. Asleep.

We have this running joke in my family about how my mom really loves clean. Like squeaky clean. And this even applies to hair. My sister and I laugh about how Mom loved to scrub our hair until it squeaked, thus stripping all the natural oils from the hair.  We’re still trying to convince her that it’s not healthy for the hair to squeak.


Clean hair is love, y’all.  I swear she used half a bottle of shampoo on each boy.


Then she turned to me. “Are you ready?!”


Happy weekend, everyone – may you have clean, squeaky hair.


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