It's All About the VALjamins

Hick and I joined my sister the ex-mayor's wife and the ex-mayor for a casino trip on Valentine's Day. The trip wasn't really a celebration of the holiday. Just an excursion to get Sis and Ex-Mayor out of their house so their cleaning ladies could clean unimpeded.

We haven't been to that casino lately, because of the closed buffet. In fact, Sis even suggested that we might have lunch somewhere off the property. HOWEVER... I had $25 in food comps from the casino, because February is my birthday month. So I told Sis we would be eating something at the casino. We went back to the grill where we got the big nachos.

Sis had the nachos again, with only the chips, beef, and cheese. The lady actually brought her TWO containers of salsa, a pleasant surprise, because Sis had been rehearsing her request for a second salsa. "Do you think I'll have to pay extra for it? I don't care. I need more salsa."

I didn't point out that Sis did NOT receive sour cream. Maybe she doesn't like that as much. She was pretty happy with her nachos. Ex-Mayor got a salad, the type of which I'm not sure. Maybe a Caesar. However, he lamented that he hadn't also ordered a grilled chicken sandwich, which he would have cut up to put on his salad.

"I asked how many points I had, and she wouldn't tell me. She just said, 'Oh, you have PLENTY of points to pay for your meal!' Remember, I won that 10X points on the wheel spin last time. So I must have a lot of points."

Hick had his usual Mushroom Swiss bBurger, with fries, and a side order of mozzarella sticks. I forsook the giant nachos this time, for a BBQ Bacon Burger, with tater tots.

Sorry, I almost forgot to take the picture. I was well into my feeding frenzy before I could curtail my chowing. Mmm... it had a double patty, onions, tomato, and pickles. I told them to leave off the lettuce. That simply ruins a burger for me. The tots were nice and crispy. I haven't had tots for several years. I think the last time was when I was with The Pony, and we went to Sonic. Probably when phone-shopping before he went away to college in 2016.

Here comes the bone of contention. I knew I had $25 in food credit. I told Hick,

"By the time we each get a burger and the combo, that will pretty much use it up. My burger is $8.99, and the soda/fries add 2.99. So that's $12. And yours. With tax, it might go just a little over. Do you have cash?"

Heh, heh! Hick always has cash. He's a junk man, you know! Anyhoo... I figured it would probably be less than a dollar over. I think Hick's burger was $7.99. Hick ordered first. He threw me off when he threw in the mozzarella sticks for himself! Then I added mine, and told the lady I had $25 food credit for my birthday. She rang it up, and said, "The difference is $4.13. Do you want to use your points for the rest?"

"NO! We'll pay."

Hick got out the debit card. He wasn't using his money for $4.13!" Even though I always pay him back out of the household money later. Thing is... Hick thought I should have used my points! No siree, Bob! Why should I used my gambling money's point rewards to buy HIM an extra side order?

I will NOT let Hick take advantage of me. Even on Valentine's Day.

Forgetters Gonna Forget

Just before Hick bestowed my Valentine's Day gambling quilt upon me, my sister the ex-mayor's wife sent me a text:

"We have to leave the house tomorrow because our cleaning ladies are coming. Ex-Mayor said he would "take me" to the casino for Valentine's Day. If you are interested."

I knew right away that she was inviting us to go along. Not just bragging about her cleaning ladies and having a Valentine's Day date for the casino. This would take some planning. I called Hick, who said we could go. I called Sis, and set a time for us to pick them up. You know. To avoid their cleaning ladies. Let the record show that we arrived on the exact minute agreed upon. We might have been late, if we'd gone back for Hick's player's card. He decided that he'd just get a new one made when we got there. Anyhoo... once we arrived at their garage door, I sent another text so they would come out. It took a few minutes.

"Oh, that one cleaning lady loves to talk and talk. Her partner isn't even here yet. We had to get away."

Not that Sis is snobby or anything. She just had plans (that she'd made to avoid being in the house with the cleaning lady). We were at the end of the driveway when I asked if Ex-Mayor had his player's card. Not pointing a finger, but he has been known to forget things. Like that time we were on the original CasinoPalooza, and got back to the hotel parking lot, and he couldn't find his car keys. Which were at the very first of the six casinos we had Paloozed. So Hick drove him back. Ex-Mayor also lost his car keys in Kansas City at a casino, and security had to track him on their surveillance cameras to where he'd lost them. AND he left his phone laying on a slot at our old favorite casino. So I just felt like it would be prudent that I asked.

"OH! NO! I don't have it! It's upstairs! Let's go back."

Hick backed A-Cad up the curved blacktop driveway. If you think riding forward while he sweaves is scary, you should try riding backwards, when he only watches the backup camera screen! While back-sweaving, Sis declared that she, too, had forgotten her card. So we went back, Ex-Mayor cut through the garage and into the kitchen door (their usual method of entry), and returned with both cards. I asked if he had his keys, and he said that Sis had hers, that he always makes sure now that she carries a set.

Anyhoo... we were off to the casino, tale(s) of which will be forthcoming. For now, we will jump to the return trip, 4/5 of the way home, almost to Bill-Paying Town, when Sis asked Ex-Mayor:

"Do you have the garage door opener?"

"Uh...no."

"How are we going to get in?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking, with the cleaning lady there. I didn't even think about needing the garage door opener to get back in. I always pick it up, but my routine was off. Do you have a key to the back door?"

"I don't know. We never use it. Can you even tell what that key looks like?"

"I think so. It's kind of extra-long. There. I think that's it."

"Don't leave us when you drop us off! We might not be able to get in!"

"We could call Niecy, and have her bring a spare key..."

"If she's even home!"

Let the record show that we waited, and that Sis did indeed have a key to the back door, so we got rid of them and didn't have to adopt them and give them Genius's room.

I don't know what else there is to be forgotten. For now, my departure checklist will include: player's card, phone, keys, garage door opener.

Sweets For the Bitter

Oh! What with birthdays this week for Val herself, and also The Pony, Valentine's Day was almost forgotten. Almost. Of course I had a card and some fake-sweet, sugar-free candy for Hick. I set it out where he would find it, on the coffee table by the long couch. I was a bit surprised that there was nothing left on the kitchen counter for ME. After all, I'd found my birthday gift awaiting me there.

Hick came back from town (most likely having donuts at Casey's), and saw his Walmart-bag-wrapped fake sweets. He heaved a sigh and stumped off to Genius's bedroom. From there, he proceeded to the footrest of his La-Z-Boy (where I was ensconced with HIPPIE), and laid a large soft item and a Walmart bag on my lap.

Once I rescued HIPPIE from possible smotheration, I saw my Valentine's Day gift from Hick:

It's a GAMBLING QUILT! Not to take to the casino, of course. Just a gambling themed quilt, for warming myself here. I LOVE IT! The picture didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. We were having an overcast day, and the lights of the living room didn't do it justice. It's a full size quilt, but not heavy. You know. Not all quilty. Not stuffed with stuffing. Just right.

Hick said there were two up for auction, and he was going to buy them both, and give one to my sister the ex-mayor's wife, but another guy outbid him on the first one. He made sure to get the second one for me. I don't mind getting a gift he bought at the auction. It's not like he gave me AUCTION MEAT.

The only drawback was when I spotted a HAIR on my new gambling quilt. I might have slightly screamed, and told Hick to take it off my lap. He said it was JUST a hair. That it might even have been HIS. I said that he might have sat on it and got his poopy butt on it, too, but that didn't mean I wanted a poopy quilt. So Hick said, "Well, you can always wash it."

I think perhaps Hick should have washed my hairy quilt before giving it to me. It being a gift and all. But I still love it, and I'll wash it myself.

Hick also gave me a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and a box of chocolate XOXO. They were from Walmart, and did not need washing.

PONY'S From Heaven

Val's Future Pennyillionaire Train has run off the rails! Not a single penny to be found for her taking this week. Opportunities abounded, what with two trips to Walmart, two trips to the bank, a visit to her credit union, her usual smattering of convenience store runs, and a jaunt to her new favorite casino. Those are all places one might reasonably expect to find escaped coinage. But no. None for Val.

The only bright spot was Val's shower on Wednesday. No, silly! I didn't find a penny in my own shower! What kind of freakish occurrence would THAT be? That's crazy talk! No, when I got out of the shower on Wednesday, I saw that I had a text from The Pony.

"Look what I found on the floor of the lab"

Let the record show that The Pony had a birthday this week, too. Maybe pennies are the new ladybug. Neither of us has seen one in quite some time. Unless you count the stuffed one that may or may not have been a costume for a toddler, that I saw in Walmart on Friday, on the bottom rack of a mini-cart.

Let the record further show that I did not inform The Pony of the bumpin' and thumpin' party I heard overhead from my OPC (Old People Chair), in his room and bathroom, at 1:20 a.m. Wednesday morning.
__________________________________________________________________

2019 Running Total
Penny   still at 13.
Dime    still at  3.
Nickel  still at 2.
Quarter  still at 1.

2018 TOTALS
Penny  131
Dime  17
Nickel  6
Quarter  1

2017 TOTALS (Started in March, 2017)
Penny  78
Dime   6
Nickel  0
Quarter  0
___________________________________________________________________ 

I Won't Go So Far as to Say I Made It Proud

Earlier this week, I was out and about on my birthday, and looked down to check the time. Not on T-Hoe's in-dash clock. That thing is 22 minutes fast. I've left it that way since I retired. My school clock was set ahead to facilitate dismissal times among the campuses, so T-Hoe ran on school time. Not-Heaven, NO! School time was not 22 minutes fast. It was about 5 minutes fast, which crept to 7 by the end of the year. I didn't bother to reset T-Hoe's clock for a year or two. Do you know how TECHNICAL that is? I just kept in mind how far ahead it was. Like now. I know it's 22 minutes. That doesn't mean I want to do mental math every time I check if I'm on schedule.

Sometimes I just glance down at my Shaming Bracelet. It's like a watch, you know. A watch that also beeps with chastisement if you're not moving enough to meet your day's goal. Which is set at TWICE what it should be, thanks to Genius at Christmas perhaps forgetting that I'm an old lady, and programming it for a random sedentary millennial with an office job and lazy bone.

Anyhoo... I glanced down at my Shaming Bracelet to check the time, and didn't see the time! What I saw instead was THIS:

Ignore the reflection of my phone taking the picture. And also my crepey wrist-skin. Or as The Pony would say, my creepy wrist-skin.

I'm pretty sure my Shaming Bracelet was NOT suggesting that I eat an emergency cupcake. I'm pretty sure my Shaming Bracelet was wishing me Happy Birthday.

That was even more heartwarming than earlier in the day, when the secretary from our financial advisor's office called to wish me a Happy Birthday. You'd think the insurance agent could have had his secretary call. It's not like it costs anything.

Genius Has Driven Himself to Success

Just a bit of horn-tooting here, to make up for instances where I might have maligned poor Genius for hardening my cold, cold heart with statements like, "I think of you more as a short-TEMPER cook." (When I declared that I was not a short-order cook, available to whip up a sandwich at his whim.)

Genius was unfurled as a banner on his college website yesterday, in a story relating his success upon graduation. When he tipped me off to check it out, I replied:

"You're famous! And a good promotional tool for your university!"

Such a modest fellow, Genius was not sure about me sharing his fame with the riffraff who read my blog my devoted readership. I had to perform an intricate dance I call Psychological Long-Distance Arm-Twisting. He acquiesced, and my bragging can commence. Perhaps my declaration that we probably won't remember his real name for long, anyway, what with our generation's susceptibility to senility, Alzheimer's, and don'treallycareitis, allowed him to relinquish control of his brand.

I have always known that Genius was headed for greatness. I was about to share a list of childhood anecdotes which I find quite humorous, but I don't want to push my luck with his good-natured permission to share this link of his success.

Well done, Genius! You will always be my shining star.

Slice of Wife

Hick is such a smooth operator. I woke up on my birthday morning, and found a card and a present on the kitchen counter. I could tell that Hick had wrapped it himself.

I have no idea where he found the paper. From the looks of it, probably inside a gift bag that was being saved for re-use. Not that he could put my gift in the actual gift bag, of course. Or bother to wipe the counter before dropping my gift there. The tape came from the roll of shipping tape that I use to wrap packages for Genius and The Pony. It's really strong tape. As Hick said, "I shoulda stole more than one roll of it when I retired."

Actually, kudos to Hick for wrapping my gift, because I had washed the black-handled scissors (sticky from that really good tape), and they were in the dish drainer. Which meant he had used the orange-handled Fiskars I've had since my first year of teaching, passed on to me by my mom, with a broken handle for the past five years. When you try to cut with them, the broken orange plastic handle moves, but doesn't make the blade move.

I'm sure you are dying to know what was inside Hick's package (heh, heh).

KNIVES! Knives, knives, knives! I love them! They match the set I got for Christmas. Except these are red, and my Christmas knives are blue. They're ceramic, and very sharp. Now we can cut my tough food easier!

Remember the Christmas knives?

I guess now we have a his 'n' hers set! Hick might be catching on to the way to Val's heart. Hopefully, it doesn't involve carving his way there with a knife.