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I’ve got lawyers and guns, but feel free to send money.

July 6, 2010

As always, our holiday was…interesting. Don’t get me wrong we always have fun, there’s just always a hullabaloo about something.

We kicked off our weekend with a Friday night dinner at Wintzell’s complete with yum fried crawfish tails and fried crab claws. (Yes, my tummy hates all things fried but sometimes I can’t resist.)

Bratchild and I were innocently imitating Kathy Griffin imitating pageant kids. I mean, what ELSE would you do at family dinner? Obviously. And then J piped in…

J: “Okay, now you are scaring me.”

Me: “Why?”

J: “Cause you being a pageant mom isn’t really that far-fetched of a possibility and she’s already said she wants to be in a pageant.”

Me: “That’s ridiculous.”

Note: bratchild totally asked to be in a pageant after we watched an episode of “Toddlers & Tiaras” that was “low glitz” and the girls her age had on pretty, long, poufy tulle dresses. But still, I know my limitations. In addition to being competitive, I’m also compulsive and have to have everything all at once. I can’t wait. When I go, I go all out. I mean, if/when I manage to get out of pj’s and bathe and stuff-then I go all out.

Sunday we had a cookout planned at my sister’s house. And then she tried to die. She got stung by a wasp and it pretty much ate/inflamed her leg. She’s allergic to everything-except cockroaches. Which I didn’t even KNOW you could be allergic to but anyways…when we were little her allergies were so bad she could hardly go outside. Like, she had to wear surgical masks. In order to make them less conspicuous and more fun, our mom decorated them with clown noses and stuff. Totally less conspicuous. Anyways, since my sister STILL insists on going outside, she got stung by a wasp and her leg almost fell off…no worries, I checked yesterday and she was still alive. If she’s planning on dying I need her to finish my graphic updates for the site.

I was in charge of dessert, people try to have me not cook, so I sweated and slaved over the most perfect chocolate pie. No really, I ordered it from Gibson’s and instead of using the drive thru I got out of the car and walked in and everything. And? It’s hot in Alabama. And humid.

And we had to have the ever important wardrobe conversation. I don’t ever match us-except bratchild and I occasionally wear the same Lilly but I do like colors to coordinate-it’s just more aesthetically pleasing. You people have no idea how ocd I really am. Ridiculous.

Me: “So bratchild and I are wearing pink, white and blue today.”

J: “To represent how we’re now a pansy nation and we don’t support our troops or do what we say we will?” (I would like to point out that my hubs is former army and still works with the troops and goes to Iraq or Afghanistan at least once a year so I don’t want to hear any hissing.)

Me: “Ummm no, mainly because Lilly doesn’t often do red, white and blue and I don’t like looking like a flag and I know how you feel about flag clothes and such anyways. It is the worst thing on the planet. I also don’t like the teacher holiday sweater look which is how I would feel if I wore red, white and blue.”

J: “Oh, okay. Then I’ll wear purple and green.”

Me: “You don’t own anything that’s not red, navy, tan or green.” (He totally wore red.)

My mother also shared some heartwarming tales of holiday terror. They started out sounding as though she was fondly reminiscing about childhood fourths and friends on the water and ended with a girl blowing a hole in her body with a cherry bomb. Ummm, thanks for sharing. Of course, bratchild wanted to know if mom was going to tell the story “about a girl dating a boy in elementary school and he cheated on her.” I don’t know WHAT they talk about.

 Monday was the BIG day, despite not actually being the fourth of July or even the sixth as I thought for awhile. So I celebrated by…going to work and shooting guns (clearly not at the same place or time.) I celebrated America by exercising the freedom of the press and the right to bear arms. Except I didn’t really do any bearing-just shooting and I’m still not allowed to have a gun of my own.

Shooting EVEN had to start with a wardrobe conversation, mainly why mine was inappropriate. I was wearing a necklace tee from Loft with lots of tulle and a satin ribbon and jewels and it was white. I was also wearing havaiana flip-flops. Apparently neither of these clothing articles are suitable shooting attire. So I changed into a minimally flower embellished J Crew t-shirt. I guess it was like when we went four-wheeling and my cashmere lounge outfit was deemed impractical. (I was going for warmth.)

And? I was actually pretty good, especially considering I’ve only held a gun once before. And the hubs, Mr Safety, had to give a super long talk about holding guns and loading them and safety stuff. I’m totally informed now. And totally deadly. This was from 15 feet away. Check it out:

I even shot a quarter off the head of the target. But, as we all know, I’m a tad, just a trifle, ocd.  And we were using used targets-they had bullet holes in the cardboard from people that are not NEARLY as good as me. Luckily, bratchild had left some little school stickers in the car that said things like “Sweet,” “Awesome,” and “To the Max.” So I covered all the bullet holes with them. J was amused. When we left he hid that target behind other ones. Hmph.

He also said I might enjoy competition shoots with him because I’m competitive, duh, and he says people that are “precise” tend to like shooting because it’s a measurable thing and a routine. I think that was a polite way of him calling me ocd and anal?

So he made me practice “real world scenarios.” Like, if I went into a bank and was hiding behind a pole (two stacked up plastic barrels) and saw a bank robber and then had to shoot him. And then had to sneak out from behind the pole to shoot his accomplice and then duck back behind the pole and out the other side. Cause that would happen. I never go inside banks.

Oh, one more thing before you go. Top Mommy Blogs reset everyone to zero and while I got fairly high up last time, I was late to the game in getting started so I made it to #9 in humor and #124 out of almost 3000 blogs. This time, I want to be in the top 50 of all blogs. So pretty please with sparkles on top follow this link: and then click on click to vote. You can vote once every 24 hours and I would love you more than glittery shoes if you would periodically vote for me. There’s a brown button with a mon juggling a baby-which is a little scary- in my sidebar. (PLEASE do not think I am condoning juggling your children.) Just click ont he button and then the click to vote when you have chances. Thanks in advance!

How was your fourth? How did you celebrate?

© Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam, 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

11 Comments leave one →
  1. July 6, 2010 1:32 PM

    To quote Scarlet O’Hara, “I can shoot straight enough…. if I don’t have to shoot too far.”

  2. Pamela *Amy and Melissa's Mother Extraordinaire* permalink
    July 6, 2010 2:55 PM

    Thank you for finally telling a story about me, it was nice. However, the girl started dating the boy in elementary school and beyond until they married in their early 20’s. She found out on her wedding day that he had been cheating all these years and walked down the aisle and slugged him! Gotta finally love her. But who in their right mind would marry a boy they dated in high school or college? Think about it, haven’t you changed bunches since then? Neither you or MJ or me for that matter married an old hanger on just cause we couldn’t move on. I know I’m ranting, but it’s a pet peeve. And you are most welcome for all the times I/we made fun of your dates.

  3. July 6, 2010 6:14 PM

    Did I know you lived in alabama? hmmm… me too…
    I knew I liked you!

  4. July 6, 2010 7:30 PM

    Girl …. you make me laugh! Consider yourself voted for! 🙂

  5. July 6, 2010 7:39 PM

    The first time I went to the shooting range I was wearing a Lilly shift, pearls and heels. True story. And my girlfriend has a PINK wee precious little handgun so I am thinking about going back and actually learning what to do and shit.

  6. July 7, 2010 9:11 AM

    The shooting range in girly garb makes me smile. I envision an old western where the “helpless” girl sticks a loaded barrel in the face of the villain and forces him to submit! Ahhh….Women’s Lib!

    Zippy Chix 3

  7. July 7, 2010 8:13 PM

    You with a gun scares the living daylights out of me.

  8. July 9, 2010 6:01 AM

    My holiday was pretty lame compared to this. No one tried to die, no one questioned my wardrobe choices or taught me what to do in a bank robbery. I feel like I missed out.

  9. July 9, 2010 9:39 AM

    I could never own a gun. If I had one this morning I would have killed that fucking squierrl that was eating my tomoatos right out of the garden! Bastard! Not that I hold a grudge…….

    Love your blog! Comedy always gets me.

    Welcome to The Lady Bloggers Society!



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