Sprite's Keeper

The four wheels or no wheels rule still applies, but the driver's record is clean.

AKA: It's Monday, I'm too tired to think, WAY too tired to write, and work actually expects me to do something other than watching the clock tick away.

Let it be noted: She is wearing Selena Gomez shoes. (Sold at Payless under the Wizards of Waverly Place line, but if the star's picture is gracing the sole, who's going to argue with a five year old?) If you should ever see her in these shoes, she will remind you of this and then demand that you compliment them and her for her obviously spot on fashion sense.

I'm waiting for Disney (or Payless, I'm not discriminating) to start sending me advertising royalties.

(I wonder if they sell that Harley helmet in an adult size.The animals just make it WORK.)

The fisheye lens is to a nondrinker what a... um, okay, I have a few Kahlua's under my belt, so this title only emphasizes my haziness.

I think John is trying to get me drunk.

I KNOW John is trying to get me drunk.

This entire vacation has been peppered with "Want a drink with that?" No, not water, which is my usual answer. He's pushing the spirits. He has this theory about Drunk Jenny. Drunk Jenny on vacation is a lot more fun than regular Jenny on vacation. Regular Jenny comes with a side of schedules and a special supersized dessert of "Everything must be organized!" (You should have seen our cabin.) (Even our hostess was impressed with the daily evidence of our stay and I even apologized for THAT.) Drunk Jenny comes with no sides, just a "Whatever the hell you want to do, I'm game" devil may care attitude that seems to be more fun than "Where's Sprite?" "Sprite! Get off that chair!" "John, get off that chair!" he usually gets plied with.

Sure, once I'm under the influence, things are good and merry as long as he watches the imbibery. Too much and I'm no good to him. Too little and it's just as if Regular Jenny came to the party alone and didn't bring the dip.

But getting me under the influence? That's a trick in itself. I'm not one to drink as it stands, and once this weekend is over, two hours and counting until Monday claims its next victim, I'll be back on the wagon and declining all alcoholic fancies that should come my way, but for some reason, the second we stepped aboard the ship, there was a glass of champagne in my hand and I was sipping at random.

Did you know it's okay to bring your own alcohol aboard a cruise ship? (Check your cruise line's rules. It may be different for everyone.) We smuggled (quite openly) several small travel containers of Kahlua, rum, vodka, tequila, amaretto, and whatever else caught John's eye during a last minute stop at a liquor store the night before we boarded. One thing I don't quite understand is a cruise liner's kind of lax strictness on this rule. One would think they would discourage it quite sternly considering this takes away from their own sale of overpriced mixed cocktails (I had to write cocktails several different ways because the spelling didn't look right to me. This is what drinking does to me. It makes me forget the English language.)

John had bought me a smoothie on the pool deck and we yanked out a small bottle of rum (I giggled like an idiot while trying to be discreet about it, but John smirked and just emptied the container right there in the adult pool area where cast members and other guests could see us. That's right. When I think I'm breaking the rules, I giggle like a moron. If you're ever with me and I start snickering with no apparent reason, check my pockets.) and made my smoothie a little more smooth. He basically took a $3.99 drink and turned it into an $8.99 drink. And it was delicious.

This entire tangent has been sponsored by Bailey's.

But anyway, the trick to making me drink is to trick my taste buds into thinking I'm not drinking any liquor at all. Then the only way I'll be able to tell is when it's too late to discreetly pour the usually horrid airiness of the spirits down whichever drain is closest. (Some plants have taken a beating for me in the past when a sink wasn't readily available. And thrived as a result. Who knew?) So John knows to keep my appertif's light and shaken, not stirred. (Seriously, is there a difference?)

So, when he learned that I can drink champagne without making the face of death that usually follows a sip of wine, he ordered a few glasses of it for our anniversary dinner. The milk that Sprite didn't finish from dinner was brought back to our room where he sneakily added an ounce or two of Kahlua and gave me what likened to a White Russian (or just the best tasting chocolate milk EVER) to accompany us to that evening's show.  

Sigh. There's still quite a few bottles of the stuff left over from what we DIDN'T drink during our vacation, but they'll keep until New Year's, the only other holiday I usually let my hair down and let my BAL up.

(I just read what I wrote and it seems this post needs a sponsor.)

(Don't drink and write, folks. You won't respect yourself in the morning.)

(Pictures and more stories to come once John edits them and sends back the damn rented fisheye lens. Seriously, who likes looking at those pictures where you feel like you need to be inebriated to enjoy them?)

(And now the title makes sense. I knew I would come around..)

Five and dime.

I am so excited.

No, really! Never mind the lack of proper punctuation to truly convey the level of exitement I feel. Let's just say that I am so excited, I'm almost zen about it.

On Sunday, Sprite turns five, but that's not what I'm SOOOO excited about. Oh, sure, I'm proud of her for making it to the fifth birthday, the last few months were a bit sketchy since the attitude got a promotion and the gratitude got a demotion if we're being honest, so yes, let's color me partially excited over that.

On Wednesday, John and I will have completed ten years of Marriage 101. (Now we get to take our graduate courses!) And that lifts my skirts too, but still not enough to hit that "OHM" level of tranquility I feel when thinking about this upcoming week.

To mark our five year old daughter/ ten year old marriage, we are doing this:

And this:

And maybe even some of this:

(images courtesy of Google)

Now can you see why I'm so excited?

I have never been a guest on a cruise ship before. I've sailed almost a hundred cruises, but always as a little worker bee, seeing to it that the guests were happy, that the Karaoke machine was well stocked with ABBA songs, always making it look like I was having a blast and loving what I did, but honestly? Long work days (Cruise staff had it easy at 12 hours on, 12 hours off. You may want to thank your waiters and cabin attendants a little more profusely next time you cruise for 18 hour schedules are considered a cake walk to them.) and little room for the crew to blow off steam except in designated areas (Sure, the bow of the ship lends for some amazing star gazing since it's so dark, but when you can't see the deck below your feet, you do tend to worry that the water will soon be replacing the planks.) made for a lot of time re-reading the few books I brought, thinking I'd have no time to just be and every day would be full of swimming and sunning.

They weren't.

But I did get to meet thousands of guests, a whole roster of forgettable faces with the same unforgettable look of enjoyment on every one. They were having a great time.

I wanted that.

Now, thanks to the stars aligning, major money saving, and a wonderful dual anniversary to be shared between the three of us, we are going to enjoy complete and reckless abandonment of time. That's right. No watch, no cell phone, no BLOG, no cares for four whole nights as the kid, who has already threatened to spend all her time in the Kid's Club, we've negotiated down to afternoons, yes, I've had to pull her back a little so we could have SOME family time together, I mean, who else is going to watch over our deck chairs while John and I take our tenth turn on the AquaDuck?, gets to celebrate her birthday sailing the high seas and we get to celebrate our anniversary dining in complete opulence at Palo, thanks to some babysitting perks the Disney geniuses thought of beforehand, (Some of those Imagineers must be parents.), and even an anniversary couple's massage, gauranteed to get the kinks out or at least relax you to the point of no longer caring that you had kinks to begin with.

My Nook is full of new reading material. My sunscreen is waiting to be packed. I have fully memorized Mamma Mia and am ready to hit that Karaoke room. John and Sprite are jumping at the bit, as I am. In my own mellow way.

We're going to have a fabulous time. And why shouldn't we? We're a happy family. We genuinely love each other, even when we don't like each other.

Damn straight we're going to celebrate this:

Spoooky Cycle: Yes, I'm already counting down the years until Sprite decides she no longer wants to trick or treat. What? You're looking for honesty, right? Well, you got it!

I admit it. I'm not a fan of Halloween. Oh, I like the holiday just fine. It's just the dressing up and having to escort the under-aged dressed up that I'm not a fan of.

Sprite's school had their annual Fall Festival on Friday. We came, we saw, we borrowed Kayla's daddy (John was working late) to carry Sprite through the puddled streets since it had been raining all day and getting to the venue was akin to boarding a water ride, one you had no idea would begin at any moment as you stepped across the street. Despite some near misses, we arrived safely and had a great time, closing the place down. Sprite wore her Alice in Wonderland costume proudly, not once mentioning how her brunette hair was detracting from the overall "Alice-ness" of the look.

Until Saturday.

On Saturday, I had sent Sprite off with her dad for the morning since I would be taking her trick or treating at the mall later in the day while he worked (yet again). I'm not sure what their conversation consisted of as they went off on their errands, but allegedly, she had confided in her father that the lack of blonde wig was influencing her portrayal of a cartoon character and she needed her motivation to believe she was following a white rabbit.

Honey, millions of people followed the white rabbit back in the 60's and 70's without any motivation at all. But let's digress from that. (Sprite, if you're reading this at any point before the age of 18, you will probably need to wait until you're at least the age of legal before I explain it.)

They came back with a blonde wig. A wig that actually cost more than we had paid for the dress and the shoes AND the headband. Oy.

Let me be honest here. I don't like this picture. The smile did not make it to her eyes, and that puts me off. Yes, I can not like my own child's photo once in a while. However, Blue saves the photo by making a cameo and possibly looking for dog treats.

Let's also keep in mind that the wig is for ADULTS. John tried on the wig. It fit. (No, he wouldn't let me take a picture. His pride is worth so much, people.) I tried on the wig. It didn't fit. Sprite tried on the wig, it didn't fit, but she was determined to make it work. (This also confirms she got SOMETHING from me, if only in the head circumference shallow end of the gene pool.)

We did at least get one worthy shot out of the bunch, and while you can still see the brunette playing peek-a-boo through the sides, the blonde does its job. Of course, once she turned around, the currently trendy two tone look reared its head since, while the wig was stationed toward the front, there was a lack of coverage in the back.

(Memo to self, paint the front door. It's been three years already since you installed it. Don't you think you should FINISH it?) (Yes, my memos have more snark than Siri.)

With the wig precariously in place, honestly, a good gust of wind would have made off with the damn thing since the headband was the only thing holding it down, we drove over to the mall to meet up with Rachel, her girls, and a few other friends of theirs to join Malloween. (I don't think they call it that. They should.)

As soon as we entered the covered play area and Sprite saw her friends Lilli and Elizabeth, the wig was off and she was running toward the slide.

Luckily, I was able to slap the hair piece back on and hope for the best when it came time to do the actual trick or treating.

Fast forward thirty minutes, when we had only combed through one wing of the large outdoor mall (there were two more just spilling over with employees ready to hand out treats), Sprite thankfully announced she didn't want any more candy, coincidentally just after I had asked Rachel how many more years we would need to invest in costumes before Sprite would consider it passe. (It seems ten more years is a good number. A good round number. A LONG number.)

Now, here's what I don't like about escorting Sprite around in costume. I am not in costume. I am usually hovering somewhere close by yelling out "Say thank you!" as she grabs her Snickers and runs. I am usually prodding her to move on while she wants to stop and examine EVERY. PIECE. OF. CANDY that enters her orange bucket. I am also usually the one who has to break her little candy loving heart when I pull the "keep 10 pieces and the rest goes" rule out of my ass and drop it on her mere minutes after she enters the house with her take of the taffy. I become impatient with the entire process, finding it difficult to engage in the fun, lose myself in the merriment.

Meh, I'm totally scrooging on her buzz. I promise, next year, I'll be better.

And John will take her trick or treating.

There. Much better.

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Trick or treat! Take a seat! I've got some Spinners you need to meet...

Peg over at Square Peg in a Round Hole

Mama Badger over at Out of The Boondocks and Into The Burbs...

 Vandy over at The Testosterone Three and Me

Eileen over at Giving Her All She's Got -New to the Spin Cycle!

Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked

Kate over at Recommended Daily Dose

SuziCate over at The Water Witch's Daughter

CaJoh over at Ca-Joh

Mrs. Bear over at Outnumbered Two To One -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Ginny Marie over at Lemon Drop Pie -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

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The Spin Cycle is taking a break for the month of November as my family tries to fit a birthday, an anniversary, a vacation, and Thanksgiving into 30 days. Oh, wait. 26 days. We're already four down. Crap! I gots things to do!

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and we'll be back in December with another Spin Cycle and a return of the Spin Cycle Secret Santa!

Much love and happiness to you all.

Oh, and snark too. Never forget the snark.

Spooky Cycle: Halloween Show and Tell!

It's all about the reason why Halloween is so profitable! No, not about candy, the costumes!

Now get your fingers out of Junior's pumpkin bowl, just because he can't count, doesn't mean he won't realize the M&M's are disappearing.

We're starting with:

Peg over at Square Peg in a Round Hole

Mama Badger over at Out of The Boondocks and Into The Burbs...

 Vandy over at The Testosterone Three and Me -Updated Wednesday!

Eileen over at Giving Her All She's Got -Updated Wednesday! New to the Spin Cycle!

Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked -Updated Thursday!

Kate over at Recommended Daily Dose -Updated Thursday!

SuziCate over at The Water Witch's Daughter -Updated Thursday!

CaJoh over at Ca-Joh -Updated Thursday!