Follow Your Arrow

Kacey Musgraves sings a song she also co-wrote titled “Follow Your Arrow.” It is my favorite song. The basic theme of the song is you are darned if you do and you are darned if you don’t. She is right. Kacey Musgraves clearly learned this lesson way before I did. It took me a long time to be able to pay attention to my arrow and be courageous enough to follow it. If I could tell every high school graduate one thing, it would be to find their arrow, follow it, and do not for one second worry about what other people think.

That being said, I also have some practical advice for the class of 2018, gathered from a wealth of knowledge of people I have had the privilege to know and learn from over the years.

Dear Class of 2018,

Welcome to being a grown up. It is both rewarding and horrifying. Many of you already have your path clearly thought out and know where you are going and how you are going to get there. (Remember, no plan survives first contact with the enemy.  You must be able to think on your feet.  That’s a bit of an Army intercept right there.). Some of you are ok with floating around and figuring things out as you go. Still others have no clear path and no idea where to start. All of the above are ok. As you navigate the next 20-25 years, here are some things to help you out.

1) Take care of your body. You get one body. That’s it. Eat the cheeseburger and go to the gym. Get regular checkups. Don’t start smoking. Don’t drink excessively very often. Under no circumstance get in a tanning bed. Always wear sunscreen. If you are going to put your naked parts out into the world, be sure you are not allergic to penicillin. When your health goes, you spend all your time and energy getting healthy.

2). Money is the root of all evil and credit cards are the devil. Unless it is life or death don’t use the credit card. You want to keep up appearances with your neighbor? Here is a little secret.....90% of the time your neighbor is in crippling debt and will be working until he is 140. But his BMW and boat are nice. Live within your means. Even when your means is Ramen.

3). Love means having to say you are sorry. A LOT. Even when you don’t mean it. Sometimes forgiveness is for you. Would you rather have peace or would you rather be right?

4). If you have a secret and you tell even one person. It is not a secret anymore.

5). Buy the plane ticket and take the road trip. Soak it all in. Just not on your credit card. See number 2.

6). “I will never....” You might.

“I will always.....” You might not.

You can think these absolutes, but bury them deep, deep, deep down and never let the words come from your mouth. I assure you, should you utter those words at some point you will choke on them.

7). Excuse me with the word choice, but it is appropriate. Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. Freedom of speech does not mean you need to put your opinion out there and it does not mean others won’t be free to criticize it.

8). Your perception is not always reality.

9). Tattoos are forever. Get them, don’t get them. No REGRATS!

10). Vote. Be an informed voter.

11). Have a strong moral code. I am Christian. God is my center. Not everybody is Christian, but everyone should hold themselves accountable for being a decent human being. My brother in law once said something that has stuck with me for many years. At the time, he identified himself as agnostic. He doesn’t know if there is a higher power or if he believes in God. However, he has read many portions of the Bible and the ten commandments are “pretty good rules to live by for anyone.” He is right. No matter the religious path you follow, “thou shall not kill,” is very good advice.

12). You will make extremely horrible decisions. Some will be on purpose. Some because you don’t know any better. Actions always have consequences. Don’t let mistakes and bad decisions define you. Own the mistake, learn from the mistake, move on from the mistake. Do not make the same mistake again.

13). People won’t remember the words you say, but they will always remember the way what you said made them feel.

14). Guts over fear. Roll the dice and have a little faith.

15). There are only two things you can do after midnight. One involves a hangover and the other diapers. Both involve projectile vomit.

16). When you buy your first home, buy the smallest home in a high dollar area.

17). Call your parents. And listen to them. It’s amazing how much smarter you are about to perceive them.

18). Two reasons not to sleep naked. Fire. Tornado. 19). Learn how to address an envelope!

20). Ask and you may receive. Don’t ask, you will get nothing. Always ask. Unless it involves your body the word no is more of a challenge statement. If it involves your body a no is ABSOLUTE.

21). Congratulations! The majority of you will never ever use algebra again.

22). Work to live. Do not live to work. Family and friends are the most important thing. Nobody has ever been on their deathbed wishing they had read more emails or attended more meetings. Your boss isn’t going to stand over your grave and grieve like your brothers and sister will.

23). Always wear comfortable shoes. Jimmy Choo never walked all the way across campus apparently or got a flat in the middle of nowhere.

24). Would you kiss your mamma with that mouth?

25). Be careful what you store in that convenient space between the refrigerator and stove.

Potatoes can and WILL liquify.

26). A job worth doing, is worth doing to the best of your ability. If you didn’t put in some time and effort, it’s probably not worth it. Also.....you never know if that person you hired to write

your college paper will copy straight from Cliff’s Notes. Incidentally you get kicked out of class for that.

27). Gravity is real and you can’t defy it. Freshmen 15 is real and midlife pounds pack on overnight! If you want to major in something, major in defying gravity. That’s how you can really help the world.

28). Karma is a bitch. And she does not discriminate. 29). Learn to cook.

30). Be of service to someone else when you can. It is a blessing to those you serve and a blessing to you as well.

Graduates, life is not always fair. Most of you will lead very ordinary, perfectly fulfilling lives. Realistically speaking some of you will have cancer three times before you are 40, or have a child that will need you the rest of their lives. Life is made up of really big moments, really awful moments, and just everyday things. Soak in the big moments and the everyday moments so in the awful moments you have something to draw on. Do not be afraid to ask for help in the awful moments. We all need help every now and then. We are humans and very flawed and always just one salt lick from crazy anyway!

Congratulations Class of 2018!

Co-contributors for this include, Carmen, Michelle J, Traci, Rex, Dian, Denise, Tina, Andrew (Spank), Becky, Launa, Robyn, Dana, Jennifer S., Todd, Elizabeth, Matt, Angela, Twyla, Jenifer D., Saige, Della, Charity, Anne, Karan, Kelsey, Meggan, Kristy, Brandon, Brad, and Michelle G., David, and Sean.

Week in Review

It’s the end of the school year.  We are at the point where in about another 3-4 school days everyone will just want it to be over!  We are also  a couple weeks from endless graduations, award assemblies, and field trips.  Life gets extremely busy in May.  Here is a little recap of the last week before crazy kicks in.  

1). It’s been very stressful around here this week. I had to skip one workout but did no emotional eating and stayed on my nutritional plan.  Yeah!!

2). It’s been very stressful around here this week and I’ve spent $440 on stuff because it was shiny and made me feel better.  This happened the day I skipped my workout.  

3). I should probably analyze 1 & 2.  But I probably won’t. 

4). I have no real issues with a hard 6 am workout, but walking to my sisters classroom is way to far and takes to much effort.  I may start counting that as cardio. 

5). I am way to old to stay up past midnight, or 11, or, 10 pm.  Really I want to be in bed by 9.  

6).  If you give a 10 year old $20 for snacks and the gift shop for his field trip, he will return you $0.

7). It is possible to go all week without doing dishes. But it’s not pretty in an open concept floor plan.  I bet you won’t see that info on HGTV.

8). My son is one shoe size from me.  He’s 10.  We already share socks.  

9). We some how own 9 bottles of Febreeze?!  

10). I SAY please pick up around your chair 10 year old.  By his reaction he HEARS chop off you own arm with a dirty knife and no anesthesia.  There better be a Tony or Oscar in that kids future.  I deserve it.  

11). My son has Prince, AC/DC, three songs from Hamilton, and Eye of the Tiger in his music playlist.  When did he become cooler than me?  I literally have no playlist.  

12). Niece number 9 knows who Mr. Sketchy is and we spent some time sniffing his markers together on Friday.  Bonding at its finest.  I’m partial to purple, she likes green.

13). Niece number 3 is headed to State in softball.  Her first at-bat they walked her.  Which was probably wise because the next at-bat she hit a home run.  And she had more than one that day.  Go Indians!!!

14).  It rained and the weather here was beautiful finally for this week. So that’s our good spring. Which means next week we will start our 5th season called Hell Spring.  Hail and tornadoes for all.  

I can’t wait to see just how May goes. 

Golden Girl

Workout clothes, specifically leggings, are my nemesis.  I go to the gym four days a week and every morning EVERY woman in my class is wearing workout leggings except me. They have pink leggings, and galaxy leggings, and neon leggings, the patterns and colors are endless.  Many have cute, matching inspirational tank tops that say things like “sore today, strong tomorrow,” or “my head says gym, but my heart says tacos.” Under the tanks some have taken the time to have cute color-coordinated sports bras.   Nobody appreciates a witty t-shirt more than me and I really am in awe of these women, but I just can’t seem to force myself to go there.

 Nope, I am the one over here in the corner sporting post pregnancy pants when my kid is much closer to 11 than 10.  One of the shirts I work out in, I wore when I flipped burgers to pay for college in 1997.  When I sweat enough in that shirt, I swear I can catch a whiff of Broasted Chicken.   Embarassingly enough there are 87 t-shirts hanging in my closet.  Yes….87.  The oldest one I can date to 1992, so apparently I keep t-shirts forever.  Technically this is cool because about half of them can be classified as vintage.  So I can’t really bring myself to invest in any cute “drop it like a squat” shirts.

Now pants are a different story.  I have four pair of pants worthy of working out in.  They literally are all pants I bought after I had my kid.  One of them is starting to wear a little thin,  so I have been perusing the internet for new workout pants.  At every click of the mouse I see workout leggings.  When I think about putting on a pair of these,  I almost go full on panic attack.  You know what happens when you pierce the casing of a bratwurst with a fork?  The bratwurst is packed so tightly in that casing that it just sort of spills out.  That is what I imagine leggings would look like on me.  Except the bratwurst is smooth, and my thighs are not.  So actually the bratwurst has the no cellulite thing going for it. 

Do you know how a body shop fixes a dent in a car?  They take the dents out as much as they can and then bondo the rest to make sure the finish is smooth when they paint the car.  That is what I need, some thigh bondo.  You spread it on your thighs to fill in the dimples and make the surface area smooth.  THEN you put on the leggings.  If someone could work on thigh bondo I volunteer to be your test subject and best customer. 

 Honestly, I realize it is ridiculous to be so stressed out about workout clothes, but this has been my struggle the last week or so.  I think I am just to close to the problem.  Luckily a girl I went to high school with who has also been working toward a healthier lifestyle has  unknowningly come through for me.  Like me, she appears to take her journey seriously (she truly wants to be healthier), and also like me she doesn’t take HERSELF to seriously.  Just when I had about given up on finding something new to workout in she posted this on Facebook….

And if I can find those shirts and earrings, nobody will be looking at my bratwurst!!!

Fifty Shades of Mom Fail

No Mom is perfect.  We all have our failures, shortcomings, and moments of weakness.  The level of failure for me personally is measured by who exactly is privy to your mom fail.  Was it a private at-home fail?  Or did you fail at the gas station at 5 pm in front of a bunch of strangers?

The most epic mom fails inevitably involve school.  Today I was at my sons school working on a project.  It was after school and my sons teacher,  Mrs. S had hall duty.  She was with the last two kids to be picked up when she stopped me in the hall.  She is outwardly laughing when she says “do I have a funny for you!”  The laughing is a good sign.  At least whatever shenanigans my kid has obviously committed, she has a sense of humor about it.

She goes on to explain she asked for his homework this morning.  They are working on the states and capitals and every week they work on five.  They color the states and write the states and corresponding capitals on the line.  He handed her the homework assignment and explained he didn’t have fifty shades of gray for her today.  He only had 4 shades of gray.  (Because he had colored most of the states gray. )

Thankfully the teacher is still laughing as she is telling me this because all I can think is how does he even know about Fifty Shades of Gray?  He watches Star Wars movies, Star Wars cartoons, the occasional other random cartoon, and old science fiction shows with his dad.  I am quickly scanning my brain for how on earth he knows about this. All I can say to her while my face turns fifty shades of red is I am sorry.  Followed by I have no idea how he knows about that.  Still laughing she says he clearly had no idea what he was referring to but he definitely made her laugh. 

I appreciate she can find the humor in however he may have been exposed to that particular turn of phrase.  Surely on some level she MUST wonder exactly how we pick movies around here on family movie night!

Geeky

Anyone who knows my husband will know he is pretty geeky.  He has personally automated all of our homes.  We have owned a robot lawn mower.  We own a robot vacuum.  At present, he is building an R2D2 unit in the garage.

This geekdom bleeds beyond robots. He will spend all the money in his checking account and 1000 man hours trying to get out of actually having to manually do something.  Shopping, for example.  He was probably Amazon’s first customer and  remains their best.  He was Amazon before it was cool. 

When we were a young couple I asked him to be in charge of our Friday night meal.  Every Friday night for 12 years we have had pizza.  When I became a mom, he wasn’t around a lot.  I asked him to help around the house because baby, job, home, and whacked out hormones is a lot.  He hired Merry Maids.
Recently he has reached a level even I am having difficulty with.  This is hard-for-me-to-admit-to-the-world difficult.  Here goes......we have a toilet paper button.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there is an actual button in my toilet paper drawer designed to allow me toilet paper on demand.  Or in 2-3 business days.  It is an actual button connected to my husbands Amazon account.  When I push it, the little button lights up.  It then sends an email to my husband to advise him I have ordered toilet paper and it is on its way.  Let me type that again.  I have a button that allows me to buy toilet paper.  From.  The.  Toilet.

He is super stoked about his button.  I am super stoked it’s connected to his Amazon account not mine.  (The above two sentences pretty much sum up our marriage.)  I asked him if there was a jewelry button.  I want that button.  How about a fairy button?  He said no, but offered up a button for laundry soap.  Hey....as long as it’s linked to HIS Amazon account, why not?  Buttons for everything!     

  In case you are a non-believer.....

Getting in shape.

In my infinite wisdom AND because I am officially out of excuses, I decided at the beginning of the year it was time to get back into shape.  I didn’t jump on the New Year bandwagon and join a gym because nobody is clocking me in and out so I might as well open the window and throw out $50 a month.  I also should mention, I haven’t worked out in four years.

Thanks to Facebook tracking my every freaking keystroke, I see a “fitness challenge” at the gym where my son has gymnastics.  This is perfect because 1) it’s $200 up front and has structured classes and I am just cheap enough that $200 is a number I will not waste away.  2) It’s a class environment and every class needs needs an obese out of shape person to make them feel better about how they look.  I am more than fine being this person for now.  3) It ends in 90 days.  It ENDS means I will have a perfect body in 90 days.  That little mind game of “the end” makes a huge difference to me. 4)  You don’t actually join the gym.  My obligation ends if I want it to after the 90 days.   

So I pay my $200 and wake my bad self up at 5 am the first morning.  It’s 30 degrees with an 8000 mph wind, but I get in my car and I drive the 22 miles to the class.  I then proceed to get weighed AND measured by a very fit, very handsome man, who is half my age. 

Most women may enjoy being in this close proximity to a hottie, but mostly I just feel like I’d rather be at the gynecologist than have this perfectly proportioned man measuring my hips.    If he works with anyone name Becky, I imagine he went to her straight away with “Oh my God Becky, would you LOOK at her butt, it is so big!”  Then they proceeded to both burst into the rest of the song. 

I refuse to allow him to tell me any measurements or any numbers.  Another Jedi mind trick with myself.  I do not need to know that number.  Only that it’s getting smaller. 

Then starts what can only be described as 50 full minutes in hell.  At least 12 other people were right there with me.  At the end I wasn’t dead, but wanted to be.  I had also been choking back vomit for at least 15 minutes.  But Mr. Perfect Body didn’t have burpees in the line up, so at least I didn’t worry the entire time I was going to pee my pants.  Which is what happens if you do burpees at the end of the workout FYI.  You worry that all that jumping is going to make you pee your pants.  So glass half full right there. 

I get in the car and am home by 7:30. My husband asks me how it was, I shoot him daggers with my eyes, then shower.  I down some water and sit at my desk.  I am tired but productive.  By 9:25 I have to pee.  I should be fine, that second day will be hard, but the first day should be ok.  I stand up.  I am not ok. I am not AT ALL ok. 

Random Andie is Born!

We all have an inner monologue.  By inner monologue I mean all those little nagging thoughts you think, but don’t say out loud.  My inner monologue has a very strong personality. She’s fearless and has a knack for making everything funny even when it is not appropriate to do so. 

I spent the vast majority of my teenage summers driving a tractor.  Twelve hours a day, every day, all summer long,  gives you a LOT of time to spend in your own head.  As an adult, I have a job that puts me on the road for hours a day some days.  It is simply amazing where my thoughts will drift on any given day. I have long been using my personal Facebook page to entertain my friends and family with my random inner monologue.  Many have encouraged me to write more than just on Facebook.  I also happen to love to write, so my technological genius of a husband bought me a website and set me up with a Facebook and Twitter account.  Today Random Andie is born.

To be honest, I am not exactly sure how this is going to go.  I write when I feel like it and usually don’t worry so much about things like good grammar and spelling. So I embark on this adventure with no set of rules, schedule, or guidelines I intend to follow.  I do know I am not going to get political or take any kind of “stand” on here.  I will write what I want, when I want, and about what I want.  As my ten year old pointed out to me today, I am “middle aged.”  If I have earned that title, I have earned the right to do things my way.

You will notice there are already random blog entries on this page.  I am technologically challenged so I had to make sure I could even get this to work!  I asked genius husband to take them down, but he said to leave them there.  So if you know me you have read these before, if you are new, good luck. 

Perusing the Pantry

My father is a semi-retired farmer and my mother just retired from the Postal Service this summer.  My father gave my mother exactly 2 days off before they hooked up the old RV and headed for country other than hotter-than-hell Oklahoma for the summer.  From time to time, my sister or myself will check on their home. 

 It so happens my mother called me today and asked if I would go make sure she unplugged her curling iron.  They came home long enough yesterday to probably do 2 loads of laundry and then they left again.  She could not remember if she unplugged the curling iron.  Happens to all girls.  So I agreed to embark upon this journey.  My 7 year old was  flat out was uninterested in the 5 mile trip so I took him to my sister’s house.  My brother in law was home, so I enlisted my sister in a quick trip to check on the curling iron.

Quickly upon arrival we discovered my mother had not only unplugged her curling iron, but she had neatly rolled up the cord and stuffed it in an empty toilet paper holder like she always does.  I couldn't help but notice the curling iron is covered in duct tape.  My sister informs me it's been like that for a long time.  Note to self:  get mom a new curling iron that turns itself off!  Christmas done!  At minimum I have some decorative duct tape.

Then as daughters do, we start pontificating what pantry items may be useful to us and what my mother won't notice is missing.  This leads us to a little game my sister and I like to call "will it be expired?”  It’s like the old David Letterman game, Will it Float?  We decide to start in the refrigerator, deli drawer first.  Neatly wrapped in a ziplock baggie is a 1 lb.  block of green cheese.   Though I could not discern an expiration date, my guess is, it's not supposed to be green.  Moving on to the door we find 2 out of 3 bottles of salad dressing expired.  We have a discussion about whether butter can expire, then my sister notices there is a half gallon of milk in the door.  The expiration on that puppy is June 2.  Read that again...JUNE 2!  Now note today’s date.  Incidentally I should mention that June 2 is exactly two days after my mother retired.   It's probably pretty good cottage cheese at this point.  We decide against opening the milk and glance in the fruit drawer.  Immediately we chicken out of actually opening said drawer.  I believe we were looking at apples, but only a forensic lab can know for sure.  Something with the brand name Tostitos didn't look right at all, and there was some Ragu Cheese Sauce in a jar that was moldy as well.  We decide to close the refrigerator all the while discussing how we should really clean it out.  We make plans to do so, but I’ll be honest here, we left everything right where it was.  Daughter’s of The Year we are not. 

On to the pantry.  This has become a little bit of a competition between my sister and I. Pick up a box, guess the expiration year.  Pick up a can, guess the expiration year.  Did you know marshmallows crystallize eventually?  Why do two people have 7 boxes of cereal?  Half of what's on the shelves is expired.  I think 2009 was the oldest thing we found in there.   I have honestly seen worse.

Onto the Jello drawer!  This starts out very disappointing as it looks as if someone has cleaned this out,  no boxes have that delightful yellowing look.  We start through the little basket in the drawer that houses packets.  Most of them were past their prime.  Then low and behold there it is!  The one item we have been waiting for.  The one that will provide inspiration for a blog post.  There is a $.79 price tag on it.  It's a chili packet.  Immediately my sister points out that chili packets haven’t been $.79 in a very VERY long time.   We are pumped with anticipation.  Expiration.....2003!  Yep 2003!  Predates 6 of their last 7 grandchildren.  Pre-dates one child's marriage.  That chili packet has surely earned its place in the family scrapbook somewhere!  

In my euphoria of the 2003 find, I decided to bite into a shortbread cookie in a package on the counter.  Those can't go bad can they?  My sister says they can.  She's right.  I am pointing out to her she is right when she informs me she ate a Kit Kat "that tasted kind of funky."  We perused the same liquor in the liquor cabinet that's been there for a supremely long time.  Why do my parents have a bottle of Jose Cuervo?  I really don't see my mother kicking back tequila shots.  She is 65 and in my whole life I have seen her drink approximately….well zero times.   We formulate a plan to come back out with husband and teenagers so they can do the actual work of getting rid of stuff.  We agree not to tell my mother until it's done.  We are good daughters!

Now I can't get the song Jose Cuervo out of my head.

Library Books

Typically we love library books in this house.  We are a reading family.  Every now and again there is a library book that keeps me away at night.  

The following is the gripping drama of the First Grade Library book Petunia’s Christmas as outlined by the inner monologue of Random Andie  Copyright 1952.  (The book, not Random Andie.)

Petunia is a goose who goes for a walk in the snow.  She ends up at the next farm over where she hears something call out to her.  She ran over to see who was calling her.  It was Charles the boy goose.  They fall madly in love at first sight.  Do not be sarcastic Andie, O won’t get it.  Just smile and read the book and try not to vomit.  

Charles tells Petunia his woeful story of how he is caged and he is so fat because the farmers wife feeds him every day.   They are trying to fatten him up to be Christmas dinner.  He wants to know why Petunia is so svelte.  He can’t possible escape his terrible circumstances because he is too fat to fly over the fence and the farmers wife only opens the gate to walk in and feed him once a day.  He pleads with Petunia to help him escape.   Ok Petunia…seriously?!  Why can’t he just not eat all the food?  Or I don’t know, why doesn’t he run around the cage and get some exercise.  Then he can fly over the fence, problem solved.   Why doesn’t he just peck the farmers wife and run for it?  Do not fall for this Petunia.  

So Petunia goes home firm in her resolve to help Charles escape so they can be together.  Petunia honey, get a grip.  He’s a loser.   Once home she decides to paint herself to look like a fairy tale monster.  Her plan is to go back and scare the farmers wife and let Charles escape.  She did such a good job painting herself that it scared a fox away.  What does the fox say?  Fabulous now that song is stuck……..focus here.  So she heads back to Charles and waits until the farmers wife comes and opens the gate.  Then she jumps out and scares the living crap out of the farmers wife.  The farmers wife is so scared she runs away screaming and leaves the gate open.  Petunia and Charles escape.  You go girl.  You go get your man!!

As they run away, the farmer’s wife is still raising a ruckus so the farmer comes out to see what is going on.  He sees Charles running away with what appears to be a “goose-footed-flying-dragon.”  So the farmer grabs his gun and goes after Charles.  A gun?!  This is a first grade library book.  I better not have to sit here and explain something I do not want to explain at 8:45 p.m. with bedtime right around the corner!!  This must have been in Texas.  This farmer better not shoot these stupid geese!!  

Petunia and Charles go back to Petunia’s barn.   Farmer with gun storms up and wants Charles back.  Petunia storms out of the barn hoping to scare the farmer like she did the farmers wife.  Farmer has gun and is not scared.  Is about to do away with Petunia when Petunia’s farmer says no way, no how, you aren’t shooting my goose she’s my pet.  So Petunia’s farmer starts to admire the way she has painted herself.  This farmer has a rather unhealthy attachment to Petunia in my opinion.   Charles farmer goes in barn to look for Charles.  Charles is hiding in a stack of hay.  So let me get this straight.  Petunia goes storming out of the barn in an attempt to save Charles and Charles has his fat goose butt hiding in the hay in the barn.  Girlfriend, dump Charles right now.  Dump him!!  You are way too good for this nonsense.  

Charles gets taken back to the farm.  His farmer says he is worth 75 cents a pound and there is no way he is letting him go.  So Petunia decides to earn money to buy Charles freedom.  So she calculates his worth.  Well she isn’t a complete idiot at least.  If is doesn’t work out and there is no pre-nup she’s good with half his worth.  

Her brilliant plan is to go into town and panhandle.  Uh, ok.  This book is ridiculous.  I stayed with this nonsense when Charles was a lazy bum and I even hung in there through the whole gun toting.  Panhandling?  Just read faster O won’t notice.  Everybody ignores her panhandling so she must come up with something else.  She gathers pine twigs from the bushes and makes Christmas wreaths.  She makes paper angels and stars, and then goes back to town and sells them.  So wait, this goose is selling stuff on the street.  Nobody thought that was off a little?  Nobody wanted to take home the goose who could count change?  Does she have a vendor license?  Hang in there, this has to be about over.  

After several days Petunia has enough money to buy Charles freedom.  She goes over to Charles place and makes the offer of the money to the farmer in exchange for her beloved.  What was Charles doing this whole time?  She was out busting her feathers to buy his freedom.  Was he just sitting in his cage this whole time getting fatter?  Is he going to say anything on his own behalf here?  Charles is loser.  

The farmers wife is so touched by Petunia’s devotion that she starts to cry.  Right.  More like farmers wife was ready to unload a fat lazy goose she didn’t want to have to cook for Christmas dinner anyway.  Now she can just go out for Chinese.  The farmer is so touched by seeing his wife cry that he allows Charles to go free and doesn’t take the money.  Charles and Petunia leave.  They get married on Christmas day and live happily ever after.   That was so painful.  That was the most painful book I have read and we have read over 1000.  Wait….what did they do with the money?  If she is smart she invested it because he doesn’t exactly appear to be an ambitious goose.  His only job was to be Christmas dinner and you got him out of that girl.  You just signed up for a lifetime of bailing him out.

Me:  “O that was the stupidest book we have ever read.  Please don’t bring it home again.  Whoever wrote this probably was on crack.”

O:  “What’s crack?”

Sigh……...