Nor is the boy. Seems like every person, er... creature, in my house is spoiled in one way or another. I'm the baby of the family, so of course I've been spoiled A LOT. Add to that being the baby and being the only surviving girl, plus the only one to provide progeny...well, you get my drift.
So why was it any surprise to get a phone call last night from my son, who is staying at his Papaw's house for the week? "Mommy! Guess what!" Jamie practically shreiked into the phone. "Papaw has a motorcycle and he let ME ride it!"
Excuse me? Did I just hear that a 72 year-old man was joyriding with an 8 year-old boy? Surely I must have misheard.
Well, I didn't. But the good news is that it was NOT really a motorcycle. It seems my dear and darlin' father shelled out for one of those Jesse James/West Coast Chopper edition bicycles all tricked out in chrome. I was informed that "it's Papaw's, but he said I could ride it whenever I want to!" I don't blame Dad for that one, as I live in what could be considered only slightly above the projects - not in how the place looks, but in the attitudes of all the wanna-be-thugs who live here. The "motorcycle" will be much safer in Papaw's garage.
As for the dog, well, he's currently sitting at my feet begging for a bite of my cereal bar. See, originally I posted this last night, and it got kind of whiny. So, this morning (May 31) I got up and deleted a big chunk of my post. I think all of you will be glad I did it, for had you read it, you would have realized that it was pretty redolent of some of my previous posts. Well, if I'm going to change my attitude, I might as well start with my blog.
Have a great day everyone. And remember, being a LITTLE spoiled isn't always a bad thing!