Still in the process of clearing eye gunk, I shuffled to the bathroom for my morning sit down. At first, the brown floater looked like an unflushed remnant from the night before. Only with a wiry tail and whiskers, my mind shifted to Sherlock mode. Not unlike the Buckley Log Show where I’d watch loggers face each other on opposing sides of the log, rolling back and forth until a slip-up sent them splashing into the pool. With an accordion-folded bunch of toilet paper rolls on the floor, I envisioned a similar stumble before leaping into the air and plopping into its bowl of death.
Out of all the safe landing spots, why the toilet, little fella?
At Duffy’s Restaurant, we stopped a quarter into our drive for some subpar clam chowder and a sad excuse for a Reuben sandwich. The redeeming quality was Mary. Or was it Susan? I looked up girls’ names from the 1960s and those names got second and third place. I’m certain Mary/Susan’s mother did not want the overly popular Lisa as her first daughter’s name.
“I love your red hair,” Mary ogled, as Evelyn did bird chirps back to her. “Yours is a lovely red,” I countered, with a shade lighter, it was still red. “Oh no, I can’t get that out of a box,” Mary retorted, shaking her head dismissively, and looking longingly at Evelyn’s locks. And so it was, me longing for our still full water cups to be filled just so we could hang out with her a moment more. But also wanting to leave, the lounge-like atmosphere stained with cigarette smoke took me back to my casino dealing days.
Or even further back, to my Grandma Betty’s mobile home. I’d tag along, like at 7 or 8 years old, to drop off Ensure drinks. It was her funeral I’d go to a couple of years later, my first ever, and I still remember how confused and indifferent I was at the whole thing.
I joined a new clan in my Total Battle phone game. For three months, I’ve been fighting monsters, joining raids, and leveling up my captains, but with the HTR (The Hunters) not gelling like we once did, I became a free agent. And what a good move it was too! The Chicken Coop clan is active, and with thirty more members, it’s like marrying into a family with tons of siblings and cousins and there’s never a lapse in people talking and doing stuff.
But a mistake I made in Clash of the Kingdoms today was when I opened a portal and attacked another player’s city. Anticipating tons of conquest points to upgrade my soldiers with, and adding a cherry on my swelling ego, I sure was surprised when a city half my might kicked the living bejesus out of me. What a dumb dumb I was not bringing any catapults to break down their walls.
So if you’re ever wondering to yourself, what’s Jaclynn doing right now, nine times out of ten I’m either about to open the game, playing the game, or have just closed the game. Hopefully, it’ll be less glued to my fingertips after I acclimate to this clan. I’m still in the warm, fuzzy honeymoon period with them.
Lastly, Dave and I are experiencing some big no’s from Evelyn lately. And it’s not fun because as parents, we resort to big consequences like, “We’ll take away all your toys,” to get her to comply. After locking horns with her over shampooing her hair, I stopped myself and remembered to ask what she was wanting. “To play.” Which is fair, she loves to play. So instead of further power struggling, I told her she could play tons more after getting her hair washed, and then she was okay. I think checking in with what she needs is a good step instead of just telling her what we’re going to do. She’s pretty darn reasonable.
Alrighty Freddy, I’ll be back here tomorrow. See you then. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 