Packing

This is my first writing conference, tomorrow the Romance Writers of America will have their national conference in Orlando, FL, my backyard. And for mother's day, my amazing husband got me a ticket to go, super cool. This push is probably more so that I can write my damn book and he can stay home with the kids playing Mr Mom, which would be fine with me, as long as I have my down time to focus on the craft of writing.
So far his chores would include laundry, driving the kids to school, bringing me back starbucks and picking up my lunch, and of course homework.
I have more workshops to attend than I can count, and I am packing everything that I can in case there is a wardrobe malfunction I can have an assortment of back up clothes.
Mike D will be glowing in the dark tonight, as I pack and run around doing things that I would never do on a normal day (ex. sweeping the front porch) he has found a treasure of highlighters, and they are all yellow, and in this dim light I can't see any kind of marks on the floor, but I see him drawing. He is sliding and drawing and moving in circles on the floor, like snow angels in peed ice, minus the ice, the highlighter is slippery I can see by the way his hands glide around the floor and I imagine when I turn the lights on he will look like a light bulb. Until I finish packing, draw away Picasso.
The boys are away, my genius child Tito decided to buy his brother a $60 helicopter from a cart at the mall, like the infomercials, those kiosks will have your nails with leopard skin and then you go home, do the same thing the little chinita did and you have turned your nails into a canvas for 80's splatter art (remember the jeans and shirts someone just aimed and shot paint on them, then wiped off the brush, that) it never comes out anything like the mall people do it. So my eldest came home and flew the helicopter over cars driving by, which was fine until the body of the chopper began to spin more than the propellers. At that point he took it back, they fixed it, and conned Diego who went with the giant genius into buying another helicopter. (forehead slamming into desk, repeat) so now we have 2 helicopters, neither working, and Tito's receipt is completely blank, the heat did it's magic. So the both of them (together compiling a brain of a teenager) went back to the mall and came back with the exact same models, no cash returns. How convenient.
Needless to say, packing has been delayed on and off all day. The only thing definite is the jeans, the pants are iffy and the dress, well it's Nina's prom dress, and my husband being the voice of reason told me it's better to under dress, than wear the bridesmaids dress and have people staring at you all night. And I have no shoes to brag about that would look phenomenal with the dress, it's peach with sequins and all I have is black heels, not the "fuck me pumps" my dear and fashionable aunt Marta wears, they are "to die for" but I don't think I have a style bone in my entire body, so everything is black, if I could get away with her pumps, I would kill em at the entrance.
I wear maybe an inch, inch and a half, the three inchers are just an accident waiting to happen, if I ever wear them, follow me with a camera and you will have a you tube sensation on your hands.
Mike D pitches a fit and I take him to my mother in law, she has the fire going outside with the gas tank, cooking bones, yes bones, she says its knee bones and tail bones from an animal, I don't know that I want to delve into the details. The cauldron is outside her room and she doesn't have a sense of smell, so Juno's gift by the door is not a bother, I however gagged. Mike D turned to me, waived, and disappeared inside, he will probably be having bone stew tomorrow, according to her its very healthy and full of nutrients, I nod.
I am now packed and ready to go, blogging and listening to my neighbors screaming, they are about 80 years old and deaf so their conversation is a nosey cuban's dream at night, I just sit and intently listen trying to make out the noises and yelling, but it's always the same thing, she helps him go to the bathroom and guides him, but with two deaf people that can be all night entertainment, the only thing missing is the popcorn.
Wish me luck everyone, and if you read my blog please let me know, I am amazed that my life is interesting, to think it all started out as therapy prescribed by my psych, love you all.