It's Wacky Wednesday time again folks, and ya know sometimes ya don't have to look any further than your own crazy life to find the wackiest stories. So this past weekend Ry Guy and I traveled to Raleigh, the big capital city of North Cackalacky, for a special celebration. My boy was a winnah of the State Young Author's Contest, which is a purty damn big deal, and his poem Gridirion Glory is now published in a book. If you want to read his entry, check it out Here.
Our Friday night plans included meeting our good friends Raven and Josh at Ry Guy's favorite Brazilian steak house to eat meat until the cows came home. Dinner was a huge success. Then we went back to our FAV Embassy Suites to get tucked in for the evening. Now I do love me an Embassy Suites because of the free cocktail hour and complimentary breakfast. This particular Embassy Suites is very sleek and modern and we have stayed there quite frequently. However, that does not diminish the fact that the clientele at breakfast still usually rolls straight outta bed to stand in line for their made to order omelet. The last time I stayed at this hotel there were people eating breakfast in all kinds of ratty sleepwear, so I figured when in Rome, do as the Romans do right?
Uh, not so fast. When I handed my breakfast ticket to the nice attendant, she took one look at my Sponge Bob pajama pants and toasty toe slippers and said, "Ma'am you have to have shoes on to eat. What the hell????? The 11 month pregnant dude in front of me with his stained tank top straining to cover his belly button is allowed to eat a dozen free pastries but I'm denied entry??? Sponge Bob was clearly offended. Ry Guy was so completely embarrassed and kept saying, "Mom, I can't believe you got kicked out of breakfast. How did you manage to get kicked out of breakfast"? It really does take some special kind of talent I suppose. Seriously, I thought I was doin' everyone a favor by puttin' on a bra so my tits wouldn't get lost in that huge vat of oatmeal. Plus, my Sponge Bob PJ's are the only sleepwear I own without holes in the crotch. Clearly I was dressin' up for the occasion.
Sadly, I was forced to go back upstairs and put on the same clothes I wore the night before just to eat a 7 minute meal, while watchin' some 350 pounder with her ass crack hangin' out over her size too small "PINK" sleepwear from Victoria's Secret push and shove her way through the hot buffet line to snag all the bacon and sausage.
All's well that ends well though 'cause I can clean up purty good. We made it to the ceremony on time, and I got to see my boy walk across the stage and receive his medal and book. Sponge Bob woulda been proud.