Dancing with spies

My little sculptor in training!

Disclaimer:  Inmates in Leavenworth (that’s a prison Kentuckian) have better internet service than me!  Originally set to post on 9/27/15

Welcome all this evening to my little island on the interwebs.  Power packed weekend for me, due to time constraints Sloane and I are waiting to properly bury Rosy.  Fear not health department she’s wrapped in approximately 75 yards of Reynolds aluminum foil, six plastic bags from the supermarket, and all of that is stuffed in a Ziploc freezer bag.  Anybody that read that unedited post I put out last night I apologize, I thought I had hit “save draft” and instead I apparently published it.  Yes my grammar and editing was lacking, but that’s no different than a finished blog post right?  Cue the grammar Nazi’s in attendance nodding their heads!  Let’s break down the weekend Skipah style shall we?

Friday night was Sloane’s annual pilgrimage of over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house we go for the evening.  I initially had plans to try and perfect my Powerball picking machine, but Miss Madison asked if I would come to her part of the woods.  She was chaperoning a school dance so we initially had nothing planned, but I wasn’t turning down a chance to see her and as an added bonus I got to relieve those awkward teenage middle school dance years!

This dance was for grades sixth through eighth, and watching the “playa’s” and the “good boys” was quite comical.  Middle school boys and girls have no idea what is going on in their bodies right now and everything they think they know they either learned from the internet or an older sibling.  Watching them slow dance was quite hilarious and brought back memories of puberty I had thought I had forever erased from head!  When you can fit an ice cream truck in between two people dancing and others think they are auditioning for Dancing with the Stars you know you are at a middle school dance.  To the young gentleman that was in the button up shirt and dressed “appropriately” kudos to your parents!  This is the learning stage of life with the other sex, be a proper gentleman and in a few years things will pay off for you.  Oh shit, I just realized my baby girl will be at one of these events in three short years!  Forget all I just typed, to any future boy reading this it goes no further than the classic “box” dance and you keep your hands well above her waist!  I want to be able to fit an African elephant in between the two of you!

Moving on before I go Django Unchained and have nightmares about boys that is coming way sooner than I ever hoped it would.  I stayed the night in Madison outside in a tent in the backyard with a candle and flyswatter (or I slept on the couch), upon arrival back in New Albany I let Sloane stay a little longer with grandma than originally planned so I could get some stuff done.  Namely a blog post on how awesome MasonJars.com is, and then I had to go to Walmart.  Walmart on a Saturday is always a treat, and I had to return an item I bought a week ago that failed miserably.  However, my Walmart trip did give me this opportunity to snap this picture!

To quote the Underdaddy “Southern style studio apartment” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Sloane and I had an uneventful Saturday evening, although I know more about a Monarch butterfly now than any other 39 year old male without a biology degree,  and I got the cake made for the spy party we attended today.  The spy party today was AWESOME!  I’m hiring Miss Madison and her mother for any future birthday parties that I need to throw for Sloane.  Every child got their own super-secret spy name and the activities planned kept all the girls and boys on the go the whole time!  Sloane had a blast and so did all the other kiddos!  As an added bonus Sloane “discovered” the most candy so that made her day, I’ll be sure to send it home with her tomorrow!

Sugar highs were aplenty!

Sloane’s top secret “spy” name for the party.

About it for tonight, I’m going to check Hammy for a pulse to make sure he has just passed out and isn’t dead himself.  I don’t want to have another death conversation with Sloane this weekend.  Plus starting a new voodoo project and will be systemically tearing apart Brutus the Buckeye in anticipation of the big football game coming up next weekend in Bloomington!