Why I LOVE Skating Rink Cheese

Oh readers, it's way past my bedtime, but I feel like I will let you all down if I don't blog something tonight.  So, here goes.  I'll probably edit it tomorrow.

There comes a time in your life when you realize that your life completely sucks.  That particular moment happened to me at the skating rink.  My daughter got an invitation to a birthday party at the local skating rink...  She was in first grade, we had just moved here.. and she wanted to go...    This seemed perfectly reasonable to me. 

We arrived at the skating rink, and at this point I was TOTALLY unaware that this whole experience would completely BLOW.. so in the midst of my naivety... I'm thinking there are still rainbows, unicorns, and lollypops at this party.   Then I pull the GIANORMOUS dirty metal door open with all my strength...and that's when *IT* happened.  That moment.  If you're a parent, and you're reading this, you know the moment I'm referring to...    The moment when you know with all certainty that YOU. ARE. SCREWED.

With the aroma of decaying feet compounded by the darkness and strobe lights, AND the deafening techno-rap music.. I was certain that God hated me, and this was my punishment for all the bad things I had ever done.  My survival instincts went into over-drive... how the hell will I endure FOUR HOURS here.  DEAR GOD -   they don't even serve alcohol here like they do in Chuckee Cheese... what will become of me?  Panic and Fear replaced my Rainbows and Lollypops.

Now, here's my favorite part... the birthday kid CAN"T EVEN SKATE.  REALLY??     He put on his skates, desperately grabbing at other skaters for dear-life during his one lap around the rink... and that was it.  He took off his skates and he just walked aimlessly in the dark in his bare feet for the rest of his VERY.LONG.PARTY.   Ummmm, did these retard parents not know that their kid couldn't skate? AT.ALL?  Hey parents...  here are some more great ideas:

Birthday Kid:  "Hey mom and dad, I want to scuba dive for my birthday party."
Retard Parents:  "Ok, son.  That sounds super awesome..even though you don't know how."

OR...

Birthday Kid: " I would like to fly a real airplane for my birthday."
Retard Parents:  "Super idea! Let's send out the invitations."

Don't misunderstand... up to this point.. I loved skating rinks.   I spent my Saturdays during my childhood inside the Cassat Avenue skating rink.  I made big colorful homemade yarn pom poms on my skates, sporting my Farah Fawcett hair, and I skated my pre-teen, misguided heart  to "Blinded By The Light" .... and during couple's skate.. I would lean on the wall of the rink hoping that Andrew Flemming would ask me to skate to "Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady"....     Then, my skating gang would skate on over to the concession stand.. and there we would partake in some yummy nachos with Skating Rink Cheese....   Yes, this was the answer!

Now I'm in my 40's, so I can't see very good in the dark, but somehow I made my way over to the concession stand .. although briefly I thought I would siezure from the lazer beams and strobe lights...  but I made it there... and  spent the best $3.50 of my life.. on The Skating Rink Cheese Nachos.   If I stuck my nose right over the nachos, it even temporarly covered the decaying buffalo carcass smell.  

I used to love the skating rink.  Now I just love cheese.

Dumb Things My Dad Has Done

This entry is dedicated to my dad.  No, he's not dead.  But, he's done and said alot of really dumb things over the years.. and I don't want him to feel that my mother has the corner-market on stupidity. 

*Actual picture of my dad from high school.  (No he is not related to Buddy Holly) *

This particular story happened a year or so ago.. and once again, it has to do with my sister.  My sister lives in closer proximity to my parents than I do, so she experiences a great deal of stupid shit.  I am merely the story-teller.. she has to live it.  ha.

Last summer, my sister had temporarily traded cars with my mom...she needed my mother's minivan for a week because she was hauling around alot of kids, and she needed more seats.  She came to the house to return the van, endured normal family torchure, and then headed home .. which is about 35 minutes away. 

Upon arriving home, she realized that she didn't have her house key on her keyring...and she had left the garage door opener in the van back at my mom's house.  So, she called the parental units to discuss her dilemma..  It was about 9pm .. she was tired, and she had kids in the car.. there was no way she could drive all the way there and back again... Here is a similation of how the conversation went:

DAD:   Hello?
SISTER: Dad, I'm locked out of the house, and I left the garage door opener in mom's van.
AND:  And??
SISTER:  Could you PLEASE bring it to me
DAD: Sure.

So, our brilliant and efficient dad went out to the van, grabbed the garage door opener, and drove 35 minutes to my sisters house.  My sister and kids were still sitting in the car in the driveway.

Dad pulls up, gets out of his car.. points the garage door opener at the garage.  NOTHING. 
My sister gets out of the car, walks over, and asks him what the heck he is doing.

DAD:  I'm trying to open your garage.
SISTER:  Why are you trying to open it with the DVD remote control?
DAD:  OH CRAP!

For some unexplained reason, our father grabbed the remote control from the DVD out of my mother's van, and then got in his car, drove 35 minutes.... only to prove that the DVD remote control does NOT open garage doors.   For any of you that are wondering if the DVD remote control and the garage door opener resemble each other  - the answer is an astounding NO.  They do not.  Not at all.

Good news is that our dad makes the laws that people have to follow.  Do not be afraid.