Caskets, Golf Carts, and Ice Chests

Yes, that's right. Caskets, golf carts, and ice chests. Somehow, the three have come together in this very twisted, hillbilly tale. I thought I have seen all things redneck, but I've gotta say, this takes the cake.

Yesterday Phillip was at work when one of their regular customers came in. Phillip works with oil field and farm equipment, mostly, but sometimes the guys get stuck with some random requests, such as the one he was presented with on this day. Where was I? Oh yeah. This guy backed his truck into the shop and asked the workers to unload this thing. What was it? A casket. Phillip's like, "What are you doing with a casket?" and the other guy said "I got it for a hundred bucks." I don't know about you, but one thought comes to mind: who's gonna be selling caskets? I mean, it's not something that people have an extra of.

Oh, I just have this old casket lyin' around. I guess I'll sell it.

Well, I thought I was gonna use this casket, but I think I've changed my mind...

It's not really the color I wanted...

I've already got 3 caskets. This one's just getting in the way.

I thought it was a buffet table. The handles are kinda awkward.

Okay, on with the story. So they unload the casket, and the guy wants Phillip to put an axle on it and a tongue (or whatever it's called) on the other end, so it can be like a trailer of sorts. He had stripped out the inside bedding, and wanted to put sheet metal in it so it could be used as an ice chest that he could rig up to his golf cart at the lake. There ya go. A casket full of beer being pulled by a golf cart.

Dude, if you're gonna drink that much beer, I guess you will need the casket after all.

The Roof, the Roof, the Roof is on Fire...

Okay, so the roof wasn't on fire...but the kitchen was.

Kristin, my lovely cousin-in-law, and I decided to spend a leisurely afternoon shopping. I needed some new summer clothes, but it was funny how I came home with a $10 shirt for myself, and several new outfits for the boys. I'm sure that happens for every mom out there. Well, I found the cutest shirt for Ben, but the last one (which happened to be Ben's size) was on the creepy mannequin kid. As Kristin and I are hijacking and undressing the mannequin as quickly as possible, Phillip calls me and asks what to do for dinner. "Cook the frozen pizza" was my reply. I'd say about 10 minutes passed until Phillip called me again a second time.

"What's in the oven?" he asked me.

"Uh, pizza?" Seriously, what kind of question is that?

"No, I mean, what was in the oven before the pizza?"

Oh crap. The events that unfolded this day were completely and totally the cat's fault (indirectly). Had we not had a thieving, cupcake stealing cat, the plastic serving container and leftover cupcakes would have been saved from the oven's blazing heat. You see, after having cake outside for Wyatt's party, my mom put the leftovers in the oven, just so that the cat would stay out of it. Since we don't use the oven as a storage place, I totally forgot about it. Phillip went to preheat the oven for the pizza, went outside with the boys for a while, then came back in to an oven on fire. Nice. The neighbors across the street lost their house due to a fire last summer. Now they have a spectacular, gorgeous home. I was thinking that maybe Phillip should have just turned around and went back outside. Heck, why not just take a walk down the street? But no, Phillip in his courageous fire-fighting efforts put out the blaze, and we still live in this awesome 1985 house. However, there is no dark chocolate fudge cake left. Sniff.

Wyatt + Jalapeños = Wet Bed in Morning

Okay, so yesterday was Wyatt's birthday party. He turned four two days ago, although he has been telling everyone for the past two years that he is five. I wonder if he'll still be five when he turns six. Anywho, the party went all right, except for when Wyatt tried to push his cousin off the ladder of our very large playset outside. Mr. Kitty behaved himself. He had a great time showing off and playing jungle cat in our shrubs and bushes. A few people made comments about the crazed look in his eyes, but everyone who lives in my house has that look.

Last night we decided to go eat at On the Border with some family. Wyatt has this "thing" about wanting to try what everyone else has. He was particularly curious about the jalapeño slice on top of Phillip's chili relleno. He wouldn't let it rest, so Phillip finally gave in and let Wyatt try it. Painful agitation ensued, as Wyatt frantically drank his entire drink, then mine, and ate tortillas and chips to try to make the sting go away. I wonder if he will listen the next time we warn him that something is hot. Poor little guy. His eyes were all watery, and he was just so little, cute, and innocent for that moment. He never cried, which surprised me, because I know how bad those peppers can sting! Well, after drinking an enormous amount of liquids, we made him visit the potty several times before bed, but alas, our efforts were futile. We awoke this morning to the chore of stripping the bed and starting the laundry.