Mariachi Hell

Okay, so I was not in the greatest of moods yesterday. I am completely and totally exhausted. I was up for two hours yesterday morning instead of sleeping. Actually, I was up and down and up and down for two hours. It started at 2:30 when Baby K woke me up to take her to the bathroom. Gladly I did so because waking up during the night for the bathroom is a very big step in life for a newly three year old. When she finished pottying, she came to my bed with me--to share my pillow and my blanket while I am stuck clinging to the edge of the bed for dear life. Next, Mr. Wonderful looks at me and tells me he has one of his famous tension headaches. After fifteen minutes or so, he just would not stop talking, so I gladly moved to his side of the bed and massaged his back and shoulder while literally fighting to keep my eyes open. Fast forward fifteen minutes and I am back lying on my corner of the pillow. All of the sudden, the dog is chasing the cat through the hallway, dining room, living room in a circle (hardwood floors and a jingly collar). I get up and stop the madness. Lie back down. 30 minutes later I hear Christmas ornaments jingling on the tree. I go in there expecting to find them swatting the lower ornaments and find this:
(check back later to see picture. I have to get ready for work now.)

Jack wants to go outside. I let him out with some scolding words of how I am not staying up to let him back in. Back to bed. Yelping 30 minutes later at the door. Let him in. He comes in like a maniac making a beeline for the cat. Enter these words," Jack, get on that couch right now." He does. "Now go to sleep." He lays down. "Don't move again." He was still there when I got up at 5:00.

Sorry that was a long background story. I'll give you the reader's digest condensed version of this. School=Hell. And another incomplete AUM class project because I don't know how to design a website. Whole family goes to eat at El Rodeo. I am in a mood and realize it. But we walk into a packed, margarita drinking crowd and lo and behold a mariachi band. Now, I probably could have handled it better in its original context, but the mariachi band was playing Sweet Home Alabama in Spanish. In my ear. Thankfully, they stopped after they played it twice in a row. Towards the end of our meal they resumed eating and I respectfully denied their request for a song choice. They moved on to play Sweet Home Alabama AGAIN, but in English this time. Then Beat It by Michael Jackson, which was actually pretty good. I did not know the next two songs, but was so highly tickled by one particularly drunk nurse. She was getting a solo by one of the mariachi singers and she decided to up and sing. Baby K put on a little bit of a show, too. She stood in the booth, bouncing while holding on to the back of the bench, shaking her little toosh. It was too cute. She kept getting plumber's crack, too. Or as the kids call it, she was cracking. Insert a Happy Birthday song or three and let's call it a night. Time for a siesta!