The Seinfeld Post—a post about nothing

I’ve accepted a challenge by WordPress, the site where I blog.  They are challenging bloggers to either post once a week or once a day in the year 2011.

I am going for the once a day posting challenge.  It’s a biggie.  Especially considering how long it takes me to write one of these boogers.   

I missed the very first day of the year.  Which technically means I failed before I even started, but I am going to perservere anyway. I may be a failure but I ain’t no quitter.

Now its January 5th, Day #5, and guess what?  I’m out of ideas.  I got nothing.  I have nothing to write and a sneaking suspicion this might be a long year.  Yesterday evening, after I pushed publish on my last blog, I closed my laptop feeling very insecure about my post, and thought  It’s a good thing noone is ever coming back to read anything I’ve ever written, because I have nothing more to say. 

Nevertheless I’ve accepted this challenge, I want to do it,  and I need to post something daily.  Something with a little substance.

All day I’ve been thinking about a topic. 

WordPress is putting out ideas over at dailypress.wordpress.com, so I hopped over there for some inspiration.  Today’s topic is “Are you stressed out right now?  If so , why or why not”  Uh, yeah, I kinda, sorta don’t have an idea for a blog the 5th day into a challenge. 

Next I thought I might do a Wordless Wednesday post like other bloggers do, where they just post a picture and no words at all.  But I can’t, I tried that before.  And I just can’t say nothing.

But if I was going to do a Wordless Wednesday post, which I’m obviously not, here is the picture I would use.

But I can’t post a picture like this and not explain it.  It’s just not right.

This was taken on Thanksgiving Day.  My mom was cooking and we all gathered up at her house.  It was a pretty large crowd and one must admit, it is hard to cook for a large crowd especially when the cook is out of practice, has adult ADHD, and is displaying the early stages of Alzheimers.  I LOVE YOU MOM!!

Authors Note:   Okay so right now I must pause in writing and tell you, if my mom ever reads this, which she probably won’t because she’s forgotten I even have a blog, but if she does, I will need protection from her immediately.   I will pack my bags, move to a remote location and not leave a forwarding address.  If I make it out alive.  I’m scared.

Back to the story.  My mom was a bit frazzled, all with the turkey being undercooked, forgetting the ham,  not having enough chairs for everyone,  the broken plate and the spilled tea.    So when I saw a cigarette on the rolls, and my mom being  the only smoker in the house, I thought Holy Cow, she’s gone over the edge now.  There’s no turning back.  Call in the white coats.  Haul her to the loony bin. 

But she denied doing it.  That was not me, she claimed. 

She was adament about her innocence.  I would NOT have done something like that. 

Now mind you, this is the same woman who drove off and left my niece ordering a milkshake at  Jay’s Drive-In the other day and didn’t realize she’d left her until she got home, then had to rush back only to find her leaning against the bricks sucking on her straw with not a worry in the world.  So laying a cigarette on a dinner roll and walking off seemed very plausible to me.

So I was all like, mom you probably just forgot.  Who else would have done it?

And here I must give my mom a little credit.  It wasn’t her after all.  She was right.  She would not have done something like that.  Of course she wouldn’t.  The heathen children later confessed (after torture and beatings) that it was them.  They were playing pranks on the grown-ups.  They felt we needed some revenge after forcing them to sit at Mr. Tiny’s table, which in itself is a whole ‘nother story.

 

Here are three of them shaking their fists at us just because we forgot they existed and didn’t have a  table or chairs for them.  I don’t know why they’re complaining.   Children never get to sit at the grown up table during the holidays.  It’s like the law or something.

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Here’s something funny that happened today.  I was teaching my classroom full of second graders that I adore.     There is not a single child in there that I want to hog tie and gag.  Not one.  We’re studying weather patterns and the water cycle.  So I ask the question, “Who can tell me the four seasons?” 

And one of my boys blurts out, “Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.”