There’s a parent at my kid’s school that is ….. hm…. how shall we say….. not a nice person.
I am doing my best to always be nice and polite but I really don’t want to deal with this person. That’s why I’ve come up with a great idea. Let me know what you think about this:
I’m making myself a “Don’t Mess With Texas” shirt to wear up there when I pick up my kid in the afternoons. I’m also going to wear sunglasses and sharp spurs on my winter boots.
And I’ll chew on a toothpick.
Then I’ll just walk in each afternoon and go, “Son! Giddyup!”
And stroll out.
This was on my hometown in southeast Texas’ Facebook page. Apparently they’re having some freezing temperatures for a couple of nights.
Otherwise known as “a typical Thursday” here in Stockholm for the next 4 months.
“…an appropriate coat.” What is an inappropriate coat? A see-through raincoat? A coat made out of bottlecaps?
“….keep adequate food & water available.” Only for cold weather, or for warm weather as well?
“….bring potted plants inside….” Good advice. Not like me who leaves them on the balcony all winter with the idea of ‘if they survive, good for them!’
One of our favorite stores in Galveston, Texas is closing at the end of the summer. It’s an army surplus store called Col. Bubbies and it’s filled with old scary military items from around the world and the occasional cat roaming around. It’s a strange store to have in a beach town, but perhaps that’s why it’s always been so fascinating. It will be sad to see it go. My question however is….. who gets all the leftover machetes?
I found out that my son hit another boy last week at school. My son is normally very calm and quiet, so I was concerned and asked what happened. He said, “That boy was saying bad things about Texas!”
I had to hold in my smile a bit while I told him that we don’t solve problems with hitting and that next time he needs to either walk away or say something instead. So I said, “If this boy says something about Texas tomorrow, what are you going to do?”
My son said he would simply reply, “Don’t Mess With Texas.”
Our assignment today was to write a movie review in Swedish. Everyone else was picking all these girly “Under the Tuscan Sun” type dramas.
I picked The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It’s great because I’m learning lots of useful phrases like “he wears a mask of human skin.” (människohud)
I’m not sure if we will have to read these out loud but I fully expect to get my own table area after this.
I went to play pool this week in Stockholm with one of my friends. I haven’t played in a while, so it was fun, plus we were evenly matched, which is to say we were both quite terrible.
Playing in this extremely clean, smoke-free, empty pool hall in Stockholm (with pop 80s music on the speakers) got me thinking about where I usually play pool once a year – at a dark backwoods marina in east Texas.
This place is located on the bayou near the border of Louisiana. We always arrive by boat. You can get a great hamburger at this place if you don’t mind that the guy cooking it smokes cigarettes, is 300 lbs and has a stained shirt that probably hasn’t been washed for at least 4 days. (It just adds extra flavor.) While you wait for your hamburger to arrive, you can borrow a bag of marshmallows to feed the alligators in the bayou. Always a treat for the kids. Or you can play a little Ernest Tubb on the jukebox, which is only loaded with old-time country, while you play a game of pool.
You might think it’s nicer to have a smoke-free pool hall all to yourself, but I say it’s missing the ambiance of the little Texas marina. If I ran the Stockholm place, I would make it where you can only arrive by sled, a 300 lb man chewing tobacco with stains on his shirt would make meatballs, and you could feed the moose with marshmallows out back. Now, that would be a real Stockholm pool hall.
At the moment, the temperature in Houston, Texas is the same as Stockholm, Sweden. This doesn’t happen often. The other thing that doesn’t happen often is for Texas to get snow before we do!
While I’m very glad for the kids in Houston to have snow (this only happened twice when I lived there), I still have to laugh at how big a news story this is. My favorite is, “share your snow and sleet photos!” Since it didn’t specify Houston, I’m thinking of sending one of my 500 pictures from last winter, which I’ve conveniently placed alongside the Texas article here.
A video of our trip to Texas condensed into one minute.
At the moment, we are on vacation in Texas. Here is what happened last year when we went on vacation in Texas. FIRE ANTS!
On one of our Texas trips, we were invited to a 3 year old’s birthday party. This party was being held by the cowboy who lives across the way. There was a bonfire, beer and music. I didn’t see much of the 3 year old. We left when it got rowdy. During the night we heard a few police cars. Turns out someone got stabbed and someone else ran off to hide in the woods.
Typical toddler birthday in East Texas.
We have an electric scale at home that’s hooked up to the computer. We’ve had this scale for 3 years. It’s nice because it charts your weight fluctuations so you can see how things are going.
My husband was looking through the last 3 years on his chart the other day and noticed that for several weeks every summer, his weight increased by 10 pounds, only to go back down to normal a month after. This is what we like to call “the yearly trip to Texas.”
It’s a double problem of having such good tasting, CHEAP food and being on vacation. When you’re on vacation, you tell yourself it’s ok to eat everything. This works great for your 3 to 7 day vacations. It’s a bit harsher on your body for the month long ones, though.
The first week we arrive, we are shocked by the large amounts of food. We can’t finish anything at restaurants and discuss our strategy of sharing an order so that we don’t waste money or food.
After a week when our stomachs adjust, we’re ordering appetizers and desserts to go along with our separate main courses. Honestly, could you resist Tex-Mex food, snow-cones, BBQ, funnel cakes, etc., if you never got it the rest of the year? Don’t judge me.