Tonight I'm feeling a little grateful. It just seemed that after a day where I must have said the sentence, "I'm going to punch you in the throat, child, I swear to Gawd," under my breath more times than I can count, it felt good to come home and have things just go right. Please allow me to be a little Oraph-esque while I while go into the lengthiest explanation of why you should own what you probably already own and if you don't why you should go out and buy it.
Windex
I shall begin with a side-note because this is my blog and I feel like it, dammit.
I took twenty three kids ages four to eight and a half bowling today with two of my coworkers. Thats a 1:8 ratio and in case you were curious, in a smoke filled, crowded, ugly-shoeed facility that ratio is OUT OF CONTROL. But fine, we made the best of it. We bowled!
(I didn't, good lord, my high is a 32 and I haven't bowled since then. I'm actually still trying to block out that drunken mess of an evening and how one swollen finger got stuck in one of the finger holes of a ball far too heavy for me and a friend of mine spent the next twenty minutes lubricating it with a beer WHICH IS NOT REALLY MEANT FOR LUBRICATION PURPOSES and asking me why I thought putting my thumb the smallest hole was a good idea in the first place...uuuggghhh. Side-note side-note over)
So the kids bowled. And one darling little girl is made of all sticks and twigs...you know, no body mass and kind of resembles Gumby and so I knew when she was kind of swaying drunkenly under the weight of her ball I should intervene but she kept SCREAMING at me over the blare of one thousand other children screaming that she "Can do it by MYSELF" and I watch the entire scenario go down as she shuffles onto the wooden bowling floor and slides in those horrific shoes they give you that are supposed to make this experience easier but I only ever witness twice as many people fall than not with them on and she literally WINDS UP by swinging it back and forth and every nerve in my body is cringing in anticipation as she swings back...forward...back...forward....back and just lets it go RIPPING IN MY DIRECTION until it makes direct contact with my leg and I feel like a victim in that film Saving Private Ryan as I lie on the floor sure everything from my knee down has been blown off by force and lord knows if we don't put that sucker on ice quickly they'll never be able to sew it back on, I know this because I watch ER and Friends reruns. You always put that amputated shit on ice.
Luckily I did not lose a leg, it is only severely bruised and sore and I'm pretty sure I have some minor cartilage damage. Nothing a little booze can't fix tomorrow night.
So, bowling ends and I come home and wash my face and take my hair down and put my glasses on and come face to face with the debacle I've been having for weeks. The fact that I did not buy scratch resistant lenses because, I don't know, I have waves of retarded frugal-ness when it comes to important things like my eyes but do not possess that same frugal-ness when it comes to my hair. $90.00 shampoo is totally worth it. Expensive glasses are for chumps. JUST SQUINT UNTIL IT BECOMES CLEAR.
Anyway, I'm fed up because someone in my family has also been very careless in that they have flecked toothpaste or soap or whatever on these same scratched up lenses that were lying on the bathroom counter and have become that much more blinding than before. It takes every last ounce of will in my body to drag myself downstairs to go clean them. I hate going to clean things when the cleaning supplies are ALL THE WAY downstairs. COULD THE DOWNSTAIRS BE ANY FARTHER AWAY? But I do it. I go downstairs. I coat both front and back of these suckers in Windex and rub them down and lo' and behold......THE SCRATCHES ARE GONE. It just turns out those scratches were the very evidence of my 'downstairs loathing' laziness. And so, it reminds me of that old guy in My Big Fat Greek Wedding who was always "put some Windex on it" when family members had zits and scratches or whatever and I was actually tickles by this concept. Put some windex on it. Put some windex on it. I squirted the kitchen sink that didn't even need cleaning. I squirted the counter. Stove top. My left arm. I squirted the cat.
And just for good measure, I then Windexed my horrific bowling leg accident. I'll let you know how it heals.
