azurelunatic | Party (more detail)

votania woke me up before my alarm, and I got dressed and ready. I'd been contemplating skittering out to check the mail from yesterday, but never got around to it before we had to leave.

marxdarx's mother doesn't like the concept of toy guns (or guns in general, I think) and so Little Fayoumis couldn't bring his toy gun -- or his sword, because he always uses that as a gun. Instead, he brought a little robot guy, and a dinosaur, who has evidently morphed into some kind of Godzilla. I was practicing words with him in the car, while we were still getting all loaded up, spelling out words and having him sound them out. I started, I think, with C A T. We progressed through other simple C A __ words, and then moved on to other words with that flat A-sound.

marxdarx was still tired, and was acting accordingly. Just as he got into the car, Little Fayoumis decided that turn-about was fair play, and asked me what S A M spelled.

marxdarx, not having been there for Little Fayoumis doing cat, car, cap, mat, and hat, jumped on him and told him that he could sound that one out by himself. Little Fayoumis made a judgement call, and asked, "Are you grouchy?"

marxdarx isn't used to this classification of parental modes and rulesets into grouchy/not grouchy, and grouched back that he was just tired. (I am only to hope that Little Fayoumis correctly interpreted this as yes, too grouchy to admit to being grouchy.)

After a brief discussion over the Doom song (NO, Little Fayoumis, you will not sing the word "Doom" over and over until we get to Mesa), we were on the 17.

The A/C in B (

votania's white convertible) has died, so we had to go with the windows open. It was a brisk 101°F. We got to

marxdarx's mother's house in plenty of time.

I got to meet the pets. Marx's dog Shadow is very black, very shaggy, and rounder than ever. All the dogs are that breed that has long, curly fur, height about knee-high to a grownup, with feet more fluffy than a Black Langshan rooster's. Shadow is black; the other two are blond. There are three cats: the little kittens are Amelia and Schroeder, both pure black. Rita is older and far more shy.

Marx's stepdad-to-be surprised him by serving him some soda in a mug from back in the day. It's a really cool mug on the outside, with rather trippy faces, and inside, there's a little guy peering up. After recovering from the startlement, Marx thought it was really cool. Little Fayoumis was giggly.

After a while, there was lasagna. Yum. Hippy Dave brought out the stereo, and "They say it's your birthday!" was soon blasting. Little Fayoumis was dancing in his chair, which he cut out after we reminded him that this was the rickety chair. Mmm, lasagna. And the good bread! I'm still not sure what-all was in it, but tomatoes did feature rather prominently.

votania finally caved to my requests for a bread machine on the condition that I try and duplicate that.

Marx's mom whisked off the lasagna-stained tablecloth to discover that the cracked place where Hippy Dave had dropped something a while ago and cracked the glass tabletop had spread, possibly due to the heat of the lasagna pan. There was intense debate over how to go about repairing the table (remove glass, put in wood, and tile -- but ah, which of approximately a zillion different ways to get the wood cut the right shape?).

And presents.

votania got a green tea shower kit, a lovely stained-glass dragonfly wind chime, temporary tattoos, some 3mm garnet beads, and a customized journal. Then we had cake, and then we grownups decided that some quality couch time was a good plan.

votania and I poked at the phones for a while, and Little Fayoumis played with the toys that Marx's mom dragged out.

It was time to go after a while, and we played in the yard a bit. I shared with Little Fayoumis the properties of pitch from the pine tree; he was none too thrilled about the sticky part, but thought it looked way cool.

We drove home in the evil intense afternoon heat. I hadn't brought enough water, and wilted before we got home. No one was feeling particularly good after that, and I fell over on my bed and had the oddest dream.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sounds like a fun party, actually. It always makes me wish I was there when you tell stories like that.

Hee! I'm flattered.

It was. It's this next one today that makes me nervous. We're armoring for it.

You called me from this party, I take it? Couldn't understand all of your message. Was wondering *why* you called here from this party...if you wanted to get ahold of me this weekend, you would've had to call the cell phone. I was in Waco. I'm sure I posted that I would be...

Actually, that may have been this morning at the party with the Scary Relatives of

votania's. Two parties in two days, oh my!

Odd; you don't remember when you called? *grin* You sounded in entirely too good of a mood to have called from the scary relatives party...and I *think* I heard something about "marx" in the message. Hard to say. You sounded tipsy. ^_^

For the party at Marx's mom's, I was in a very low-key, mellow, quiet mood. Very subdued. For the scary relatives party, I was high-energy, ready to fly into action if need be at any moment.

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