Today Rachel and James finally went back to school after a 22 day winter break, thanks to a little snow and a lot of ice. I'm glad because I got tired of the bickering over the tv. I've never let the kids have tvs in their bedrooms but now I'm starting to rethink that rule. We have two for five people. Cliff basically hogs one, so that leaves one for the kids and none for me. The girls can agree on what to watch, but if James is tired of his xbox or kindle and wants to watch Survivorman or Burn Notice then it gets ugly. He has an obsession with Burn Notice and has watched all the seasons on Netflix. I think he likes Fiona. I keep saying I will cancel Netflix, but at $8.00 a month for my family, plus Rebecca's boyfriend's family (They use our password. I don't know if that's a crime, like stealing cable or not.) I guess it's worth it.
This winter has been hard on us. Not only because of too many kids and not enough tvs, but on our vehicles. Rachel had an accident right before Christmas, and just a few days ago, I hit ice and spun around and landed in a ditch. The front end went down in it and the rear stuck out in the middle of the road, just waiting for some idiot to come flying by and total the whole thing. Thankfully, that didn't happen. Of course, I couldn't just drive out. The tires spun and no matter how hard my three strong teens tried to rock that car, it wouldn't budge. Cliff had to yank it out with a chain. I thought I didn't do damage, but the bumper cover is cracked and scratched. Not broken, not even really visable unless you squat down and look closely, but it is cracked. Not enough to bother me, but more than enough to bother Cliff.
I've always joked that my family put the "fun" in dysfuntional. Now I can add that the dog, Molly, is seriously psycho. She needs therapy. The other night, Rebecca came screaming out of her room, demanding to know who took her money. She had $260.00 on her desk that went missing. I've never heard such crying, screaming and hyperventilating. It didn't take long to figure out that Molly ate it. She eats paper towels, tissues and well, money. If someone has a cold and leaves a pile of tissues within her reach, she scarfs them down, mucus and all. Two days later Molly pooped out a crumbled up, chewed up, torn up, nasty, smelly wad of dollar bills. I could go into detail about how we went about trying to salvage them. I'll just say it was kind of like doing a puzzle, only much, much grosser. I took them to the bank and told the story to my aunt who works there. After she laughed and told all the bank tellers about the digested money in my ziplock, I spread them out at one lucky lady's counter. Hope they had some Clorox wipes on hand. Another lady, eavesdropping said they need one serial number entirely, and at least half of the second serial number to confirm it. Several bills only had one, so I thought I was not going to get the full amount, which by now was $220.00. $40.00 must have been absorbed in Molly. I was handed $220.00, washed my hands and flew out of there before some branch manager noticed my dirty money transaction and denied me the crisp, non-smelly bills.
Will trade dog for tv.