My mom can't come to the blog right now. I've decided to limit her exposure to the world in an effort to get her head out of her heiney and her feet back down to the ground. She's been spinning out of control these last few weeks, so I decided to step in to restore a little order around here.
(Besides, when the alarm clock went off at o'dark hundred this morning, she rolled over in the big girl sleigh bed and said "Stewey, Mommie Dearest needs you to step in to restore a little order around here.")
So I was happy to oblige.
(Before we begin, however, I feel the need to clarify something that my stupid mo-ther mentioned about me wanting to go to Monte Carlo for Spring Break. I didn't say that I wanted to go to the COUNTRY Monte Carlo. I said that I wanted to go to the CASINO Monte Carlo for my Spring Break. I'm a rated player there, and the folks on the concierge level know that I prefer to breakfast in bed with the Times and a nice tea and toast tray at 10am. They also know that I like to have three fresh white towels laid out for me in my pool cabana, and that they better not even THINK of serving me lukewarm champagne without an apology and bucket of ice standing by at the ready. So before you get the idea that I will be one of the millions of idiots descending on the Florida beaches, I ask you to consider my particular history.)
Life here at Chez Spinster (which shall henceforth be known as Chez Stewey) is going to be conducted according to three very basic principles:
1. A clean and tidy house is a happy house.
2. A clean and tidy Mommie is a happy Mommie.
3. The only way for the day to function properly is to do what Stewey tells you to do exactly when he tells you to do it.
So in that spirit, I think that the Mommie part of the equation is in the master bath, scrubbing the tiles (and then herself) in preparation for the afternoon's activities. These will involve some napping (on my part), some tea and cookies at 4pm (again, on my part), and some quiet reflection as to how we might make this a more suitable environment for someone of my particular intellect and ability.
I'm thinking that a serious culling of all of the bad TeeVee shows will be order, as will a thorough understanding of what constitutes proper reading material. Stitching, of course, will be left alone, since I think the old lady is rather on track in that per-view.
Sometime around 7pm, you can expect to find us, properly attired and bathed (me in my silk smoking jacket and Mommie in her freshly pressed shirtwaist dress and pumps), sitting in the Happy Chair with a lovely mineral water to the left, something stimulating on the TeeVee to the front, and the stitchy things to the right. We might even forego the TeeVee to engage ourselves in some serious conversation about important events of the day, and I think we might also think about a little classical music for background.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friends. And, fortunately for my Mommie's sake, I am here to take control of this little goat rodeo. No more messy anythings. No more stomping about in eighteen year old sweatpants and broken down house slippers. No more ranting at the sky or at the neighbors or at the TeeVee over stuff that any normal person would know to ignore.
We're going to be genteel and dignified and productive and calm around here if I have to enlist the aid of an army to do it.
Wish me luck. As I'm sure you can imagine, this is going to be interesting.
With love from your pal,