Clubbing With My Peeps

It certainly was a long drive to get to the miniature golf course. Okay, it wasn't really that far, but I simply had to use a golf pun in my opening paragraph.

It's not an everyday kind of thing when I have the opportunity to play mini golf with my 90-year-old daddy and the rest of my family. I'm not sure I've ever played miniature golf with my dad, so this was likely a FIRST!

It's not an everyday sort of thing to be outdoors in late June, in Texas, without sweating bucket loads. Surprisingly, the temperature was in the low 80s with extremely low humidity. 

It's definitely not an everyday occurrence to hit a hole-in-one. I hit one! (Proof that women CAN drive?) I nearly had a stroke. :-P

And not every day is my birthday!!!  Thankfully. Quick math reveals that I'd be celebrating somewhere near my 19,000th birthday, if b-days were a daily thing.

Here's how the good times rolled:

 Yes, the ball went in.

My youngest knows that there are three ways to improve your golf game: take lessons, practice constantly... or start cheating. She plays the fairway.

Did you know that a golfer who says he never cheats is also a liar? There was no cheating or lying going on at this course, of course. There was an ample amount of silliness, but that is par for the course.

Thankfully, we finished putting around before it got too dark, so we avoided swinging nightclubs... 

I know. I used another really bad pun, but I just had to.

The next activity involved frozen custard, cake, candles, and singing. Oh, and presents!

Thanks to my middle child's culinary skills, the traditional b-day celebratory dessert proved to be the proverbial frosting on the cake, or rather ganache on the cake. Yum. 

This getting older business ain't so bad, after all.

This Too Shall Pass

What do you say to someone with a kidney stone? 
Urine trouble.


Groan.
I know, I know. That was REALLLLY painful!

Sooooo, a few weeks ago, my urologist called with the results of my kidney stone test. I didn't pass.

Thanks to my bro., my "rock" got dubbed Frieda Stone. Free da stone?

After weeks (months actually) of dealing with annoying and oftentimes extremely painful symptoms, I can now say that I'm no longer a stoner. Yay!!! I opted to have Extracorporeal Shock Wave Lithotripsy (ESWL), so that blasted stone is now a thing of the past (passed?).

ESWL is done as an outpatient procedure. I got to choose between two locations where my doctor has privileges. One hospital is old and the other is only one year old. Being smart consumers, Mr. Smith and I decided to comparison shop the prices at both places. We expected the new place to be the most expensive; however, the "old" hospital came in $9,500 more for the exact same procedure done by the exact same doctor. Crazy!

I must include a couple of pictures of the fancy schmancy facility we chose. I felt as if I was heading off to a day spa; however, I neglected to get a mani/pedi included in my package deal.

The reception/waiting area is pretty comfy.

While I was in the operating room, Smitty was kept up-to-date via text messages sent to a pager.

Thankfully, I was under general anesthesia. My anesthesiologist told me that he had had the exact same procedure done a few months ago, but just as they were prepping him, he passed the stone. After hearing that story, I was ready to be knocked out.

I have no idea what this says. Do you have an interpretation?  My doctor wrote this cryptic message on my affected side prior to the procedure. It didn't wear off for days. I looked as if I was tagged with graffiti.

I've got a jar of dirt -- or gravel -- and an X-ray of my innards.

I got to take these presents to my doctor today. He was impressed. Not really. 

He receives this kind of stuff day in and day out.

It appears that I'm all clear, but I will have a follow-up appointment in one month to make sure.

Soooooo, my b-day is coming up at the end of June. When I went to the mailbox this afternoon, I found an early birthday card from my seester. She usually sends cards that have something to do with shoes. It's just a sister thing. She deviated from the norm this year. Her card is perfect.

Inside message: On your birthday, just relax and go with the flow.

I nearly peed my pants when I read it.

If laughter truly is the best medicine, I'm all better.

"Fish" No More

Tie a big bow on it... Millie's freshman year is in the books.

Snapchatter -- Freshman Style

The spring semester is winding down. It's been an especially good/fun year for our high schooler. 

Millie keeps me informed of her 9th grade goings-on via Snapchat and iMessages. While I don't receive Snapchat messages from my girlie every day, she sends just enough to keep me in the loop without getting me all tangled up!

A few of my daughter's friends also send me frequent Snapchat messages. They know I'll "listen" to them. And I'll always reply with a goofy image. I have promised Millie's friends that I'll try to include at least one brown mackerel tabby in my pictorial reply. 

When life gives furry felines, use them as a prop in a photo. Always. And keep a lint roller at the ready.

There are days that I feel as if I'm right there roaming the halls of Keller High. Mercifully, I'm not physically present; I'm just virtually there. I do not want a re-do of high school. NO. THANK. YOU.

Theatre class is my daughter's favorite class, for one obvious reason. 
I should probably talk to her about finger-pointing.

Not all of the text messages/Snapchats are sent from school; sometimes messages are sent from an after school or weekend activity. Friends are usually involved. And a sibling might show up here and there. Throw in a cat, or two, fur good measure... No. Usually there is just ONE main Maine Coon -- Bartholomew. 

Maine Coons make an awesome fashion accessory.

How on earth did my generation ever survive the teen years without a cell phone, Snapchat, and limitless selfies? IDK!