Full Moon Monday

I'm not a fan of Mondays, who is? Sunday nights are sleepless. I develop some abnormal fascination with any program on television to keep me awake. My children have followed suit in this behavior making it necessary for mom to get out of bed at least 5 times to reign them back to their rooms. It's the same evening the dog has had too much to drink and has to be let out 3 times to pee. The same night the cat decides it must have love at 3 am and I wake up to a tongue bath and claws begging for attention. Let's not leave out that its the last evening that honey and I are spending together until the new weekend, so he cannot keep to his own side of the bed, smothering me and rubbing up against me. Yup, the guy is even horny in his sleep. I find that adorable and charming, but all of these things lead to a house of grumpy people every Monday night.

Last night was not alot different. Cranky child at the table, crying over having too much homework and not enough sleep. Overtired child cleaning, mowing lawns, washing windows, being very busy trying to score brownie points with mom to get ungrounded and to not fall asleep and miss what will no doubt be Monday's bad entertainment.

Last year I moved into an OLD neighborhood. The minute I started moving in furniture, here came the neighbors. I'm still not sure if it was to welcome us or to simply be snoopy. In all likelihood it was both. Regardless, the men who saw paint cans and power tools were over there in a flash to see exactly what was being remodeled and how. It was then that I met Bob. I didn't like Bob much, his personality was a bit too forceful. Something about him gave me the willies. Was it the short shorts that a man half his age shouldnt wear in public? Was it the long sleeved shirts that he wore WITH the short shorts that bothered me? Was it the white sun hat that topped off this ensemble that was just too much for me to handle? I dont know. His yard is immaculate and admirable, but I try not to look over there out of fear of catching a glimpse of this get up. It didnt help that the entire neighborhood held a garage sale and this old geezer decided to put Playboy magazines on display with the wife's old knicknacks and the grandkids toys.

So last night as I was taking out the garbage, Bob comes racing across the street. His arms are flailing in the air. I would have thought it to be some sort of dire emergency had he not had such a glowing expression on his face. The man looked ready to piss himself with excitement.

Bob: "Please come over and help me."
Me: "Are you ok is something wrong?"
Bob: "I am expecting an important email at 6 o'clock and I can't get my computer to work right. Something is wrong with the screen. Please come look at it, it's very important."

Cranky child has noticed the commotion and sees the neighbor grab my arm and lead me to his house. She's not liking this. She races home, turns off the stove and is back in a flash, forcing herself into Bob's house to find her mom. She stands protectively behind me as I try to assess what Bob's issues are. (His computer issues anyway.)

Ive done this before with my mother. Somehow that generation wants to be a part of the internet world, but they are totally clueless about simple things such as task bars and regularly click themselves into a computer freeze. Bob simply needed someone to show him how to expand his screen.

But Bob lied to me. He was not expecting an email. His wife was out of town and he was in a chat room. He didnt have computer issues, he had AOL chat room issues. He wanted me to show him how to "whisper" someone in a chat room. He was trying to speak to me in hypothetical questions, which annoyed me and insulted my intelligence, but I just wanted out of his computer room as quickly as possible. After I get it all up and running for him, screen ready to meet his on line lady, he turns to me and says "I sure hope you arent going to tell on me about my love life." Cringing inside I tell him I'm not the least bit interested in his love life. Cranky child is giving me the eye roll. Even at ten she can sense this man is not playing with a full deck and is acting like a slime ball. He's 69 years old, married for 40 some years, in a Christian chat room hooking up with a woman looking for a Godly man. Egads, could this get any worse?

Bob: "Give me your email address and I will send you something"
Me: "I dont really check my mail at home"
Bob: "Come on, it will be fun"
Me: "You live across the street. If you need help again, just knock on the door."
Bob: "Here's the pen, write it down for me"

Cranky Child: "Please stop flirting with my mom. You're married and we are burning dinner"

Reluctantly, I gave him my email address. Fortunately I am switching to a new provider next week.