Monday, July 11, 2011

View of the Zoo

We went to the drive in theater in Kenosha.  The screen looked like it would fall down in a strong wind, but it survived a very strong wind last week, the evidence from which was piled in almost every driveway and all along the surrounding roads.  Golly gee. They had to search our car because twice that week, people had tried to sneak in.  The revenue loss was sixteen dollars and we had spent the afternoon packing the car with odds and ends from Valley, so it really was not worth his time.

Ben wanted to see the Zookeeper movie, with Kevin James who is adorable.  I believe that to be the actual title of the movie.  Part of the time Ben and Cassie sat on the roof.  Then they sat in the car and there was not a breath of air, so we had to turn on the car and the air conditioning.

90% of the people we saw there were the same shape.  The women wore maybe size twelve pants, maybe 14, maybe ten and size 44 tops.  I wondered aloud if the clothing stores in Kenosha catered to that specific type of blouse.  I am being mean and petty, but really, what are the odds?  And Ben was being a little loud and colorful previous to the start of the movie and the very nice looking woman with tops and bottoms that looked like God didn't make a mistake, and her very nicely comported young men, one of which, to my chagrin, was a darling redhead, actually moved her car away and was heard explaining to her sons that she did not want to spend the entire movie parked next to those rowdies (us).  Actually the loudest noise we made was me pounding the steering wheel with tears running down my face with laughter, and, at this moment, I do not recall if it was something in the movie or something from my carfull that was making me laugh.  I was laughing so hard on the way up, wondering where this road we didn't belong on was going to take us, oh, lo and behold, it is the street we are supposed to be on, through luck alone, that I was afraid I would run off the road.  We laugh so hard and we just go on with this schtick about ending up on the Amstutz on the fourth of July and what was going to pop up from that huge cavern in the neutral ground.  I don't know.  It is what keeps me going.  This has been the craziest week, with house guests that I think were here and someone breaking into Fran's Valley House, that she is trying to vacate, and the new person, that we do not know where the time went, and the movie was funny, hysterically, in some parts, and stupid in others, but we laughed for what ever reason and we found our way home, and the tiny baby slept like an angel.  I have heard babies will do that when they are over stimulated, just zonk out, when the car is full of warm, crazy people that think they are funnier than the movie, and really are. And, oh I spilled something, oh, it smells good, oh, it's carpet cleaner, and stop spitting those Mike and Ikes out the window.  I complain, and I whine, and I am miserable and unhappy and bitter and short tempered, and insincere and more than a little crazy.  But I have such fun with these goofy guys.  I would not want to be with anyone else.  I am sure.

You wouldn't either. 

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