Why do I look weird in this picture?
Well, this is the pained expressin that graces my mug after an evening with the Hubby and his grandmother, Meme.
We went to dinner, running like mad to beat the be-sparkled youth of Homecoming weekend and landing in our seats in mere minutes.
And then the conversation starts.
"Meme have you been using your computer?"
Insert four minutes of "What"s and "Huh"s before she finally understands what he's said and Word War I is getting ready to start over a talk about an HP touch screen computer and its attributes.
After dinner, I'm frazzled, but holding up well until Meme mentions that since she couldn't get the mattress off the guest bed she just put the Dust Ruffle ON TOP of the mattress. Harry starts pulling off the comforter and sheets to put it on right and just about the time that he is balancing the pillow-top on his sweaty brow is when little Meme decides to say "Can you flip it? It needs to be flipped, too! I couldn't do it - can you? Flip it? I could've done it myself. Can you? Flip it?"
So Harry, of course, flips out.
I hurry to smooth the edges of the dust ruffle out while Harry bellows and guffaws while clutching the mattress with Meme still calling to him repeatedly to "flip it" and "come here - look what I've done!" while poking a pencil top toward her computer screen.
If one man could spontaneously combust with only the heat of aggravation - then there'd surely be a mushroom cloud over Huntington right now.