A Surprisingly Sane Blog

I spent the day chauffeuring my sister’s cute bubble-butt to Ikea and shopping until my brain was going to explode.

It was so much fun.

Now, if you don’t know anything about my sister, she likes trashy panties, she’s really pretty, and she is about as twisted and quirky as I am.  Except she doesn’t need happy pills to stop herself from stepping in front of a speeding bus.

Oh, and I’ve decided that she’s getting married to her current boyfriend on a beach in Hawaii.  And I’m her maiden of honor, of course.  Now it’s just up to her and Scotty to figure out the whole hey, we should talk about the whole getting-engaged-part so that Tamra doesn’t have to sound like a moron thing. *hint hint*

We kind of survived Catholic school and family trauma and stupid guys and shitty friends together.   And she’s pretty much always been the closest person to me (besides my husband, of course), except for those times when we just didn’t get along.  We both have our bitchy moments… but I think we can both agree that she has them a little more frequently than I do  (*ducking*).

But all of our oddities and crap we’ve been through make for a really good time together.

Starting with the last thing James told me before we left this morning, “Hey Tamra… don’t spend any money, okay?”

I stared at him, innocent and wide-eyed.  “Well, I have to get another table leg for our desk and a bin to replace the one that Julie killed.”

“Yeah, but nothing else.  Unless it’s like five bucks.”

“Sure.”  Blink.  Blink blink.

Hello, Darling Hubby, your wife is going to Ikea. You just said the words, “Don’t spend any money”.  You might as well say, “You need to wake up without a cup of coffee,” or, “You’re going to have to hold that bran-and-applesauce-and-prune-induced shit in your colon until tomorrow afternoon”.  It’s just not going to happen.

Kathryn and I got a good laugh at that one on the drive up.  Among the tales of bizarre co-workers,  something that has to do with a jumping egg wearing a scared expression, and the nightmare she had that included me dying from a Black Widow bite after she read about my latest fear.

And yeah, the whole “not spending money” request was doomed from the start.

I mean, the second we got there, we  just kind of lost control of ourselves.  We went from civilized women to drooling baboons ready to devour the furniture and accessories in about three seconds.  Before I knew it, my sister was yellowing loudly from the model bathroom while sitting down on the toilet, “Get the hell out of here!  I gotta take a crap!  EXCUSE ME!”.  You know, loud enough for everyone within earshot to know she’s the proud driver of the short bus (sorry, that was a little wrong, but I’m not going to erase it now that it’s there.  I tried.  I couldn’t.  Zero impulse control.).

And of course, we had to duck and run through the kiddy-door-thingy in the kid section.  And get excited over the colorful children’s furniture.  While I was humming that clown-mobile song “do-do dodo do do dod dod doo doo…” loud enough to make her yell at me to shut the hell up.  In front of all the kids.

We finally made our way down to the do-it-yourself warehouse-pickup place, and that’s where Kathryn really decided to make a scene.  She gave the cart a good push and jumped on for a ride while I ran after her laughing hysterically and yelling like a lunatic, “Get off there!  You’re going to break your leg!  Kath, STOP!”

It was hilarious- my 25-year-old sister cart surfing while her maniac sister was (loudly) telling her that she was going to be returned to her boyfriend broken.  She was howling after me, “You’re just jealous!  You want to ride on the cart!”.

Yeah, I’m not going to lie.  I did.  But I was stuck pushing another cart full of goodies, so all I could do was chase after her pushing that heavy thing around.  If you’ve ever been to Ikea, you know their carts have 4-wheel drive.  Beyond cool.

The onlookers were trying to decide whether to be amused or to shield their precious children’s eyes from the cruel truth of adult sisters acting like crazed kids in a candy shop.

But we made it out alive.  And we finally found my dad’s truck.  The one that I parked way the hell out in Timbuktu and couldn’t remember where I left it.

And we spent the rest of the car ride home giggling like schoolgirls over silly things and talking about all the serious crap we’ve dealt with over the course of our lives.

By the time we made it home, James looked exhausted, the girls were thrilled to see me, and my my jugs were on the verge of a heaving volcanic milk eruption.

And I brought home a shelf with bins for the the unending growth of toys, a very cool new towel rack thing for the kitchen, and a catalog of new kitchen cabinets.

Just as a gentle suggestion, you know.

Current Mood: Happy