One Whipped Mother

Go Kart A No-Go

Went to the end-of-season kart club races yesterday to watch my husband and middle daughter tear it up, man.












(This is a picture of Lar being very intense as he sizes up the competition -- taken at last year's event, and not by my own little hands, but I really fucking like how hot he looks here despite the helmet hair, and so, felt the need to post it.)

Where was I? Ah, yes, the races...

Um. Hated every minute of it. Not because I had to stand around for ten hours in the blazing sun (sunburn hurt, me cry, me dumb for not putting sunscreen on), and not because a couple of the racers, who shall remain anonymous at this time, cheated like the dirty birds they are, thus swiping first place from my ever-so-honest and superiorly-skilled husband and daughter (seriously, they are both the best drivers in their classes), but because I brought along my boy and my youngest daughter.

Bad deal.

Ten hours of whining, moaning, complaining, and public wiener-pulling (my boy refuses to use public bathrooms, and will hold it for all eternity -- his secret to perpetual pee-holding? Grab da weiner and hold on for dear life). Not a fun way to spend a lovely Sunday.

All in all, not the worst day I've ever had, though. There was the time when I broke my wrist in third grade...And the time I peed my pants in first grade -- during Reading Circle Time, no less...And the day I tripped over a blind man's wildly-swinging, out-of-control asshole cane and fell flat on my face in the middle of Midtown Plaza, to which I promptly hurled a chain of curses at the poor dude...

Really, yesterday wasn't all that horrible. The people are very cool, especially when they aren't cheating, and the picnic was awesome (saucy kielbasa in a crockpot? I'm so there!), and there was beer, which, in my humble opinion, is de rigueur for any event. It was, however, warm beer. Still, better than no beer at all, right?

Today will be another sunny day filled with whining, complaining, and perhaps a bit of wiener-pulling (the boy hates to take bathroom breaks when he's busy playing outside), but the beer will be cold, the tunes loud, and Ms. Lori will keep her ass under the patio umbrella. Gonna be a good day.

posted by Ms. Lori @ 9:57 AM