Butternut Squashed in Texas

It's weird what you take away from trips. It's never the thing you think you'll come home with.

I went to Texas for the first time for work this week. I had never been to the Lone Star state, and was seriously hoping for some Basement of the Alamo kind of environment. Sadly, I was in Houston and learned that just like there is no basement in the Alamo, Houston isn't the old west. Also the Alamo isn't there. I had forgotten where it was. Luckily I asked before I went.

The first thing that happened was that after our plane ride of about 2 hours, I stood up. My knee however decided it wasn't coming along. I could barely move. I hobbled off of the plane, got my bag and found my workmates to head to the hotel. The knee felt weirdly stiff, and a bit hurty. No big whup.

I was delighted to have gotten a big room, for no apparent reason. I think it's because I called the  800 number annoyed with the local desk for not giving me my discount and for being a doofus. My reward was a mini suite like room bigger than I actually needed.

It was pretty nice.

The other thing that was nice was the bathroom, which I failed to take a picture of. The bathroom was like every mother's dream HUGE fancy shower head, enormous garden bath, three feet deep and wide. SO wide I could've invited friends over.

But that would be inappropriate.

I decided on my first night, that a luxurious bath was just the ticket. I'd take a lovely bath, and then I would ice my knee. Warm then cold, that's a thing right? I don't know. It's a thing in my mind. 

It didn't occur to me though, that taking a bath would involve getting one leg over that bathtub wall. Did I mention it was like three feet deep? When one knee isn't quite up to par, you have to make a decision. WHICH KNEE WILL I USE FOR WHAT? Will I balance on the bad knee, step over with my good knee, risking falling backward onto the tile? Or will I step in with my bad knee, risking it wobbling out from under me and me slipping, hitting my head and drowning in the tub? I opened the stopper just in case and carefully stepped in, closing it once I was seated.

The water piled in around me, warm wonderful heat, sloshing around my self and making me weightless and my knee barely hurt. Well, it hurt a bit when I had to lean up to turn off the water. But barely.

I washed and conditioned my hair, and then broke out my new soap. I just got new fun soap at the pumpkin patch. Pumpkin/Butternut Squash all natural body soap stuff. I like all natural body soap stuff. That's good, right?

As I was slathering my form with copious amounts of this new product, I was thinking, "What does this smell like?" It wasn't like soap. It was disconcertingly like something else. It's not that it was unpleasant it just wasn't a SOAP smell. I have to confess, I do want my soap to smell a bit like soap. 

It was about that time I felt warm and dreamy and realized I was nearly breaking the rule of not swimming alone in this huge tub, so I pulled the drain to again minimize my risk of drowning and managed to find a way out of the tub, albeit quite painful and awkward. 

I got on pajamas, slippers, and hobbled down the hall for some ice for my knee.

But that smell. What was that smell?

I settled in on my sofa, found an episode of South Park I hadn't seen (not hard, haven't watched it in years) and put the ice pack on my knee. 

What I learned in Texas was two things.

1. That smell was the smell of Butternut Squash baby food. Who in gods green earth makes soap that smells like baby food?

2. I now know what the Human Centipede is, because of South Park. I've steadfastly avoided finding out what it was for all these years. Thanks Matt and Trey, you dicks.

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Butternut Squashed in Texas

It's weird what you take away from trips. It's never the thing you think you'll come home with.

I went to Texas for the first time for work this week. I had never been to the Lone Star state, and was seriously hoping for some Basement of the Alamo kind of environment. Sadly, I was in Houston and learned that just like there is no basement in the Alamo, Houston isn't the old west. Also the Alamo isn't there. I had forgotten where it was. Luckily I asked before I went.

The first thing that happened was that after our plane ride of about 2 hours, I stood up. My knee however decided it wasn't coming along. I could barely move. I hobbled off of the plane, got my bag and found my workmates to head to the hotel. The knee felt weirdly stiff, and a bit hurty. No big whup.

I was delighted to have gotten a big room, for no apparent reason. I think it's because I called the  800 number annoyed with the local desk for not giving me my discount and for being a doofus. My reward was a mini suite like room bigger than I actually needed.

It was pretty nice.

The other thing that was nice was the bathroom, which I failed to take a picture of. The bathroom was like every mother's dream HUGE fancy shower head, enormous garden bath, three feet deep and wide. SO wide I could've invited friends over.

But that would be inappropriate.

I decided on my first night, that a luxurious bath was just the ticket. I'd take a lovely bath, and then I would ice my knee. Warm then cold, that's a thing right? I don't know. It's a thing in my mind. 

It didn't occur to me though, that taking a bath would involve getting one leg over that bathtub wall. Did I mention it was like three feet deep? When one knee isn't quite up to par, you have to make a decision. WHICH KNEE WILL I USE FOR WHAT? Will I balance on the bad knee, step over with my good knee, risking falling backward onto the tile? Or will I step in with my bad knee, risking it wobbling out from under me and me slipping, hitting my head and drowning in the tub? I opened the stopper just in case and carefully stepped in, closing it once I was seated.

The water piled in around me, warm wonderful heat, sloshing around my self and making me weightless and my knee barely hurt. Well, it hurt a bit when I had to lean up to turn off the water. But barely.

I washed and conditioned my hair, and then broke out my new soap. I just got new fun soap at the pumpkin patch. Pumpkin/Butternut Squash all natural body soap stuff. I like all natural body soap stuff. That's good, right?

As I was slathering my form with copious amounts of this new product, I was thinking, "What does this smell like?" It wasn't like soap. It was disconcertingly like something else. It's not that it was unpleasant it just wasn't a SOAP smell. I have to confess, I do want my soap to smell a bit like soap. 

It was about that time I felt warm and dreamy and realized I was nearly breaking the rule of not swimming alone in this huge tub, so I pulled the drain to again minimize my risk of drowning and managed to find a way out of the tub, albeit quite painful and awkward. 

I got on pajamas, slippers, and hobbled down the hall for some ice for my knee.

But that smell. What was that smell?

I settled in on my sofa, found an episode of South Park I hadn't seen (not hard, haven't watched it in years) and put the ice pack on my knee. 

What I learned in Texas was two things.

1. That smell was the smell of Butternut Squash baby food. Who in gods green earth makes soap that smells like baby food?

2. I now know what the Human Centipede is, because of South Park. I've steadfastly avoided finding out what it was for all these years. Thanks Matt and Trey, you dicks.

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There Were Portents and Omens A'Plenty.....

I should've known. I just should have known that this day was meant for staying in bed with my head under the covers. I woke up well rested (surprisingly on little sleep) and feeling that today I'd get X Y and Z all done.
Get some boxes unpacked. Get some stuff put away. Run the sweeper. Some very BASIC maintenance life items would get done.

When I awoke, it was a torrential downpour.

That was the first sign.

The boy woke up chipper though - I was lulled by his optimistic Kindergartner enthusiasm. It was Math Day, it was taco day......there was Arthur on the PBS and Apple Jacks for breakfast....really life was putzing along well.

We drove to the bus stop vs walk because the hill we normally walk up was a raging river of water (this was the NEXT SIGN). We stood under a big over sized umbrella from and old job of mine, and he marveled at how well it kept the rain off of us. His exuberance,even in the face of such a gloomy day,threw me and my sense of a bad day to the wayside.

But then I should've known that other people's joy can't over ride the inevitable....so (later that morning) when I took that step....

and missed the second stair.....

and fell down the stairs of my house barely missing a twin who was right in front of me and whom would have been seriously injured had I actually slammed into him......

THEN I KNEW.

Yeah, it was going to be a crummy day.

The husband was my knight, basically having to haul me back up the stairs and put me into bed after having fetched me both Tylenol and a maxi pad (yeah he's totally sweet like that) and I crawled into bed to cry myself to sleep.

I think I bruised my tailbone as I can sit on it but it hurts and I'm all sore and miserable.

At the end of the day the oldest boy was told in class about signing up for boy scouts by his teacher, which totally delighted him, only to find out when he went to sign up that he has to be in FIRST GRADE. Which then crushed him and broke his sweet little heart and he spent the rest of the night moping and being sad.

It's 10:54 PM.

This day can go ahead and close. This family has had enough.

There Were Portents and Omens A'Plenty.....

I should've known. I just should have known that this day was meant for staying in bed with my head under the covers. I woke up well rested (surprisingly on little sleep) and feeling that today I'd get X Y and Z all done.
Get some boxes unpacked. Get some stuff put away. Run the sweeper. Some very BASIC maintenance life items would get done.

When I awoke, it was a torrential downpour.

That was the first sign.

The boy woke up chipper though - I was lulled by his optimistic Kindergartner enthusiasm. It was Math Day, it was taco day......there was Arthur on the PBS and Apple Jacks for breakfast....really life was putzing along well.

We drove to the bus stop vs walk because the hill we normally walk up was a raging river of water (this was the NEXT SIGN). We stood under a big over sized umbrella from and old job of mine, and he marveled at how well it kept the rain off of us. His exuberance,even in the face of such a gloomy day,threw me and my sense of a bad day to the wayside.

But then I should've known that other people's joy can't over ride the inevitable....so (later that morning) when I took that step....

and missed the second stair.....

and fell down the stairs of my house barely missing a twin who was right in front of me and whom would have been seriously injured had I actually slammed into him......

THEN I KNEW.

Yeah, it was going to be a crummy day.

The husband was my knight, basically having to haul me back up the stairs and put me into bed after having fetched me both Tylenol and a maxi pad (yeah he's totally sweet like that) and I crawled into bed to cry myself to sleep.

I think I bruised my tailbone as I can sit on it but it hurts and I'm all sore and miserable.

At the end of the day the oldest boy was told in class about signing up for boy scouts by his teacher, which totally delighted him, only to find out when he went to sign up that he has to be in FIRST GRADE. Which then crushed him and broke his sweet little heart and he spent the rest of the night moping and being sad.

It's 10:54 PM.

This day can go ahead and close. This family has had enough.