Some Day-to-Day

If it had to be my last week in Texas, you had better believe I was going to make it count, starting with New Year's celebrations hot and fresh off of a ski trip. Celebrations that included charades, spontaneous shuffling, fire building, s'mores, leaping over open flame, never ever have I ever, a fair share of laughter, and one wicked hat. On New Year's day, you bet your boots I ate a heaping serving of black-eyed peas for good luck. Then, the jam packed week began.

Monday Gunday. Most people, when you express a longing to shoot guns, give a quick titter before briskly walking away and giving you odd glances across the room. Other people, like my grandpa, take a moment to think, then say, "Well, we'll need some guns. Give me a week." Then the next time you go to their house they have multiple firearms spread out in the guest bedroom. Then they pick you up and take you out to some property where you can shoot off multiple rounds of ammunition at targets that look like squirrels. True story. I shot a .22 rifle, a .22 pistol, a .357 magnum, a .38 special, and a 20 gauge. Variety is the spice of life, my friends. Plus, nothing says grandparent-grandchild bonding time quite like bullseyes and sporting clays.

Tuesday Two-Stepping. Not that it has anything to do with two-stepping, but on Tuesday I found my absolute, hands down, favorite pair of socks, which have been MIA for the past six months or so. They are fleece and irreplaceable. They were hiding, and I was afraid I had lost them forever. Very afraid. But the world is set right and I have my fleece socks again, so everyone can stop worrying. In the evening, though, my dad did transform the living room into a dance floor, put on the George Strait, and dusted off his figurative boogie shoes in order to teach me how to two-step. He also threw in some waltz and polka lessons pro bono.

Wednesday Unbirthday Party. Wednesday was not my birthday. But we did have a birthday party. Before the birthday party, though, I learned how to pwn Settlers of Catan. And I singlehandedly brought back the usage of pwn. My unbirthday party was at Jucy's, because I like my burgers done Jucy's style. I also like how their styrofoam cups are conducive to jabbing your entire thumb through while trying to put on the lids, which then sends Diet Dr. Pepper streaming down your front. Not that that has ever happened. Thank goodness the only people I invited to my unbirthday were related to me. They had to claim me, Diet Dr. Pepper stained socks and all.

Thursday Day Trip. The Picnic Club saddled up in Calpurnia and headed to Dallas to see Hugo. We were approached on our way into the theater by a guy who had lost his wallet, still managed to have a $50 gift card to the movie theater, needed to get to Fort Worth, so wanted to sell the card for $35 cash. Needless to say, we were all highly confused. It was one of those situations where you know you're supposed to say no, but you don't know why. So we said no. Then we said yes, verified the card did indeed have $50 on it (actually, $49), then saved $14. Holler! After the movie, we headed to the world's largest honky tonk in order to catch Wendell's line dancing lesson. We learned the mockingbird, which is, in fact, a real song, not just a scene from Dumb and Dumber. We put everyone else on the floor to shame with our linedancing and pretzeling and I-learned-this-on-YouTubing.

Friday Farewells. Lunch at Stanleys, boot shopping (and eventually buying), unbelievably amazing Christmas gift exchanging, letters to missionaries writing, ZOTZ eating, wondering why I can't just be packed in your suitcase for Spain. And now, to cap it all off, packing. By the way, ZOTZ are super gross.