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Because who doesn’t like posts about twins and mud?

  • August 3, 2010

About a month ago, my twin sister Trish called me up all excited because she won tickets to the Big Country Bash and wanted me to go with her. It was an all day thing and she told me we’d have a blast, listening to country music and drinking beer in the sun.

“But I haven’t listened to country music since Garth Brooks was popular,” I told her. “Like, since 1991.”

“Oh that doesn’t matter,” Trish said. “Besides, Trailer Choir is going to be there. You like Trailer Choir, right?”

“No, Trish, I’ve never heard of them, because I haven’t listened to country music since 1991.”

She then proceeded to ask me if I knew forty-two more country songs, by bands that would be at the Big Country Bash. I answered no, no, no, still no, quit asking me, what part of this are you not getting, no, no, that sounds like a stupid song, no, no, wtf, no, no, Jesus, no, seriously that title is dumb, no, still no, I’ll take no for $600 Alex, no, shut up, no, holy hell, never heard of it, etc…..

But, as I think I’ve already mentioned, they were serving beer so on the day of the Big Country Bash, Dave dropped me off at the concert grounds at noon to meet Trish.

I wore the super-cool cowboy hat I bought at Target. Probably the real country fans don’t buy their ten-gallon hats at Target but whatever, mine was cute and cheap.

It had rained in Des Moines the night before the Big Country Bash. A lot. I mean like flash flood watches and stuff. Which I ignore, much like tornado warnings.

Dave warned me it would be muddy but Trish and I didn’t realize how muddy until we got to the entrance of the Big Country Bash, henceforth known as the Big Country Mud Bash.

We had to cross a moat made of mud that encircled the grounds. Seriously. Either you go through the mud, or you aren’t getting in.

Now I’m pretty sure that one of us is gonna land ass-first in the mud moat and I’m really hoping it’s Trish and not me. She’s got a bad leg and her back bothers her so my money’s on her and once we start making our way across the mud moat it’s every twin for herself. I scaled a particularly perilous section and looked over my shoulder at Trish and damn if she’s not holding her own. Have I mentioned we’re also carrying our chairs and beach bags and we’re wearing flip flops?

We made our way closer to the person taking tickets. Not only have I not fallen, My feet aren’t even dirty. Then I step in a squishy puddle which completely covers THREE of my toes in mud.

I was horrified, partly because sometimes I act like a total princess and partly because, hello? mud.covered.three.toes. I haven’t even gotten in the joint and I’m a mess.

I had two bottles of water in my bag. I snuck them in so that I wouldn’t get too hammered dehydrated but I decided to pour one of them all over my foot so it would be clean again. Is genius plan.

Until we get past the ticket taker dude. Then things really got muddy. Trish and I were trying to figure out the whole ID/Wristband/Beer thing and with each step, I struggled to pull my flip-flop clad foot out of the mud. Also, with each step, those flip-flops are spraying the back of my shirt with mud. A helpful man tapped me on my shoulder, pointed at my shoes, and said, “You’re gonna wanna take those off.”

So now I’m carrying my chair, my bag, and my mud-covered shoes. We still haven’t figured out the whole ID/Wristband/Beer thing and I’m blaming Trish and Garth Brooks and the Grand ‘Ole Opry for getting me into this fiasco.

We persevered though, and finally sat down in our chairs with a couple beers.

The guy behind us slept through half of the Big Country Mud Bash.

I threw my shoes away when I got home.

I especially like the juxtaposition of my Real Housewife of Dallas County fake fingernails with muddy hands.

Trish has muddy hands too but her fingernails are real (she would want me to tell you that).

I was doing okay until I had to stand in line to get us something to eat. I have no words to describe this other than ewwwwwwww. Kinda makes those three mud-covered toes not seem so bad.

It was shortly after this picture was taken that I had to visit the port-a-potty for the first time. The floor was so slick with mud I was convinced I would slip, my foot would hit the door while my pants were around my ankles, the door would fly open, and I’d give everyone at the Big Country Mud Bash the ultimate money shot. Didn’t happen though!

Trish is nice to everyone.

It’s going to rain any minute.

The sky cleared, the sun came out, and Trish made me sit in a garbage bag in her car on the way home.

We’re totally going next year.

This is what happens when the Hawkeyes play before noon

  • December 14, 2009

Dave and the offspring and I have been watching a lot of Hawkeye football this season. We especially like when the Hawkeyes are playing at night because we can get together with friends and neighbors and have a few drinks while we enjoy the game.

On Halloween, the Hawkeyes played at 11:05 AM. We invited a few neighbors over to watch with us and thought we’d make a day of it. We had already been trick or treating the night before because, here in Des Moines, we call it Beggar’s night and we go out on the 30th. I have no idea why and I didn’t make up the rule. But I’m glad we had already gone trick or treating because it left us an entire day to watch football and hang out. It was beautiful here on Halloween, sunny and unseasonably warm which meant the offspring and the neighbor kids could play outside while we watched the game. Following is a semi-detailed account of how much fun we had.

8:00 : Offspring wake up and start stuffing their faces with Halloween candy. I take away the candy and serve them an appropriate breakfast because I am a good mother.
10:30: Go to grocery store for last minute items before neighbors arrive. Mention offhand to Dave that I probably wouldn’t drink during the game because it was so early and alcohol didn’t sound appealing. Plus, I really wanted to go to the library after the game and maybe run a few errands. But, when I am in the liquor aisle buying beer for the guys, I am mesmerized by all the champagne with sparkly, pretty labels. Maybe one mimosa would be kind of fun and maybe my neighbors will want one too. Can’t decide which champagne to buy so I purchase three different kinds with the rationale that I can always save them for another time if no one wants a mimosa.
11:05: Neighbors arrive and Iowa game starts.
11:10: Finish setting out hot wings and vegetables. Remind offspring to eat their veggies. Commend them for choosing broccoli. Am totally a good mother. Encourage them to go outside and play because fresh air and sunshine is good for children.
11:15: Ask Brooke if she wants champagne. She definitely does.
11:20: Cannot believe I forgot how much Mimosas kick ass!
12:20: First bottle of champagne gone. How did that happen? Ask Brooke if I should open another bottle. She says yes. Go outside and point exploding cork toward Yeti and Smokey’s house. Laugh maniacally.
1:00: Tipsy.
1:40: Make sandwiches for kids. Use Halloween cookie cutters to make bats and ghosts. Am like perfect Martha Stewart type mother except totally buzzed.
1:45: Dave and the offspring and I morph into completely obnoxious Hawkeye fans. Convinced that our cheering may influence outcome of game. And that players and coaches in Iowa City can hear us.
2:00 Take small break and re-locate to Brooke and Spence’s house next door so they can put their kids down for a nap.
3:00 Cork number three? See ya!
4:00 All football games are over. Brooke breaks out her ipod. Appoint myself DJ and look for songs to play that are not sung by 80’s hair bands or Lady Gaga. Play all three repeatedly and refuse to let anyone else control ipod.
5:00 Serve everyone crescent roll wrapped little smokies. Decide that they are awesome and wonder why I don’t make them all the time.
6:00 Lauren asks if we can make a cake tomorrow. “Of course we can!” I respond.
7:00 Start flirting with Dave. Point to him and mouth the word “You”, point to myself and mouth the word “Me” and then make several additional gestures in case he doesn’t know what I mean. He totally does. And so does everyone else.
7:15 Tell Dave he can stay for a while longer and that I’ll take the offspring home. Read books to Lauren which shouldn’t be as difficult as it is considering they are written for the first grade reading level. She accuses me of skipping pages. Finally get her in bed. Matthew asks if he can eat Halloween candy. I tell him yes but advise him that eating a bunch of candy, drinking a big glass of water, and then puking will not be appreciated at all. Lauren comes back out of her bedroom because if Matthew is still up, she’s not going to bed either. Lauren sees Matthew eating candy, grabs her trick or treat basket and joins him. Finally wrestle candy away from them and tell them to go to bed. They tell me they aren’t tired now. Tell them I will give all their Halloween candy to less fortunate kids if they don’t go to bed immediately. Watch them fly up the stairs and go into their rooms.
9:00 Climb into bed to watch TV.
11:00 Dave crawls into bed and whispers, “Tracey, I’m home.” “Leave me alone,” I mumble (followed, according to Dave, by something that sounds like “don’t touch me!” but probably was just sleepy gibberish).
11:01 Halloween comes to a close in our household.

The next day, while baking a cake with Lauren, I reflected back on the previous day’s activities and thought about what a fun time we had had. I also realized that there are windows of opportunity in our home. Lauren is good at identifying when the windows are open and I’m grateful that she only asked for a cake and not, say, a pony because I do try hard to keep my promises. And even though Matthew ate a ton of Halloween candy, he didn’t throw up so I guess everything worked out okay there. Usually Matthew is pretty good at utilizing windows of opportunity to his advantage.

Despite our 17 years together, Dave is still learning.

I Regret To Inform You That Flashback Friday Will Not Occur Today

  • August 7, 2009

I’m in a big ass hurry to get out of town before my brother and sister in law change their minds about watching the offspring and I can’t find any funny pictures for Flashback Friday but to make it up to you I am working on a post about my horrible PMS which I will publish no later than Sunday night. Or Monday if I am still kind of drunk hungover on Sunday. Which is quite possible.

So no Flashback Friday+drunk/hungover=everything you ever wanted to know about my monthly hellish hormonal psychotic episodes.

I know.


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