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Spam, Mac and Cheese, Slow Dancing and Grounded

October 22, 2017

It has been a wild couple of weeks at Your Daily Fiber.  I haven’t told you because, well, I didn’t see a reason to get Ivy all fired up.

 

I guess we can talk about it now, and then we can get to the good stuff.  Yep, I have another couple Homecoming dance stories, but first I should talk about the store.

 

I’m ready to tell you why Ivy was fired up.  We had some turmoil caused by Monner’s Mumblings.  A couple Sunday’s ago I sent out my story, EXACTLY as I always do.  Ivy has made publishing these stories on the web extremely easy for me.  I get up on Sunday, type for a while, and let Elaine and Ivy read the story. (They are supposed to be proofreading and complimenting me.  Frankly, at times they are not very good at either.)  After the proofreading is finished, I move the arrow on the screen to where it says “publish” and I hit the button, EVERY time.

 

The next day, Monday, Ivy came to me while I was at the store with that “I’m the manager here” look in her eye and said, “What did you do?” I replied, "I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Ivy:  When you published Monner’s Mumblings.  Somehow you emailed it to our store newsletter list. 

Me:  I did EXACTLY what I have always done, so what’s the big deal?

Ivy:  Some of our customers are unsubscribing to our newsletter list.   Some of them have reported you as “spam”.

 

“Spam” actually has two definitions.  One of them has to do with unwanted, unsolicited emails, the other is rubberized, compressed canned meat.  I didn’t want to be involved with either.  

 

Me:  I don’t change the way I publish……….hey, wait a minute.  Are you telling me some of our customers are upset because someone (Did you notice I’m not taking any blame here) emailed Monner’s Mumblings to them?  You find out who’s upset and don’t ever let them in the store again.

Ivy:  This is serious!

Me:  Well, then you need to call the website people and ask them what they did, because I publish EXACTLY as I always have.

Ivy:  Just let me look at what you are doing before you send out the next Mumblings.

 

Last Sunday, doing EXACTLY what I always have, and Monner’s Mumblings was emailed again.

 

However, this time no one unsubscribed or called me names.  Some customers actually came into the store and told Ivy they enjoyed stories.

 

Anyway, Ivy was bewildered as to how Monner’s Mumblings were getting emailed.  Turns out, Ivy was working on a website she found the email button and turned it off.  I knew it couldn’t have been me.

 

I would like to apologize if you received these stories and didn’t want them.  I would also like to apologize for Ivy thinking it was me who sent them.

 

*****************

 

Ivy had shipped in some yarn that is new to the store this past week.  She is excited about the new projects she can do with the new yarn.

 

The most noticeable thing about this new yarn is it was all white.  I mentioned this fact to Ivy, “Hey this stuff is all white.”  She said, “I know, you are going to dye it.  Oh yeah, you need to get started, I’m writing a pattern for the new yarn and I need the yarn for a sample.”  I felt a tear run down my cheek. 

 

****************

 

OK, I can talk about Homecoming now.

 

Before I get started, I probably should mention that I’m not really OK with kids dating.  Elaine and I are raising our second batch of kids, I don’t have any desire to raise my third batch. 

 

I’m not sure Girl Twin was quite comfortable going to the dance with a boy, so she (and three other girls) decided to attend the dance as a group.

 

I have been aware of Girl Twin’s male "friend" for a few years now.  I can’t say that I had ever spoke with him but I certainly have heard him speak.  I observed the boy and his friends while they were at middle school events.  At least one of these three boys knew every (construction language) word that I know, and they didn’t mind using them.  These kids were using some of the (construction language) that even I don’t like to use.  I can’t say Girl Twin’s date uses (construction language) but he’s around it, and I’m talking the good stuff.  This might have been in the back of my mind when I actually met him.

 

Before the big date, one of the girl’s mother made reservations for the four couples to have dinner at one of the newer restaurants in town.

 

Although I have never been to this restaurant, I have heard good things about it.  With that in mind, I wouldn’t call this a kids restaurant.  (It would not be a restaurant Girl Twin would have picked.) 

 

After the dance, I asked Girl Twin if she liked the restaurant.  She replied, “It was OK.  I didn’t see anything on the menu I liked so I asked for a kids menu.  I had Macaroni and Cheese.  When I ordered off the kids menu, everyone did.  Well, six of us did, we were saving our money for ice cream.”  So much for romantic first dates.

 

I asked Girl Twin if she enjoyed the dance.  She said she enjoy it.  I asked if she danced.  She told me, “I danced the slow dances.”  I said, “WHAT?!!!”  She said, "Conrad went off with his friends and came back when the music slowed down."  I can’t begin to tell you how happy that makes me.  That the (allegedly) foul-mouthed little (construction language)head was slow dancing with MY Girl Twin.

 

The dance resulted in Boy Twin getting grounded and having his phone taken away.

 

Boy Twin and Elaine had arranged that Boy Twin would spend the night with a friend after the dance.  This “friend” became angry at his date and left the dance, leaving Boy Twin at the dance without a ride home.  You are right, none of this was Boy Twin’s fault.  What was his fault was, he just decided to go home with another friend and didn’t tell anyone where he was at.

 

We didn’t find out until the next afternoon where he was.  When I asked why he didn’t call us he told me “I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

Do you see why I don’t want a third batch of kids?

 

Elaine wants to let Boy Twin off the hook because he is wearing one of her woven vests.  That doesn’t seem like good parenting to me.

 

Our crazy lives!

 

Monner

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