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I was absolutely totally 100% floored by my sister last night; three times before 7:00 and innumerable times before 9:00. I was floored and flabbergasted and stunned, staggered, amazed and dumbfounded. This girl, I swear makes me speechless so often that around her my dad might actually get a few minutes peace from my constant jibber jabber and seriously, if I weren’t afraid she’d make his head go explody bomb I’d keep her around on my visits to my parents house.
I got a message via Facebook yesterday telling me that (and here’s #1) “We have to do this thing where we bring food for that guy shakesphere's birthday” And I’m not kidding you, that’s what she actually wrote me. That guy. Shakesphere.
I’m going to ignore for now how she butchered his name, because that could have been a simple typo. However what I cannot ignore is “that guy”. Shakespeare is not a “that guy” kind of guy. He could arguably be called the godfather of modern literature, without him we wouldn’t have the word eyeball, before him no one had heard the word obscene, he even coined the phrase ”household words” HE IS NOT THAT GUY! For cripes sake.
So of course I fumed and I prayed that one day she would get a teacher like Mr. Orteza that would teach her things that were actually important, like who is a “that guy” and who isn’t. As of right now the Friendswood School District is in the midst of the most epic FAIL of all time.
I told Kate that I would be at her house at 7:00 and that I needed her to go and buy all the stuff to make the cake balls, to go ahead and bake the cake, that I would be there later to help her form the balls and to show her how to dip and decorate them. To that I recieved special moment #2. She texted me back “I need to bake a cake for this?”

… I don’t know Kate, they are cake balls so it could be safe to assume there is cake in them. However it could also be a funny little joke I like to play on people, I call them cake balls but really they are made from pickled pigs feet and cauliflower.
So Instead of texting her back, because I knew I’d say something like that and she wouldn’t get the insult since it’s impossible to show inflection in a text message I called her. And what did I hear? My moment #3 “Hello? Oh, hi! (1…2…) OMG I have got to tell you something!...” BEEEEP. Who does that anymore??? Kate. Kate Rosendahl does that. And who falls for it?? I DO.
After that things just went downhill. Slalom style. As we waited for the cake balls to harden up in the freezer I went to check on the American Idol results and found that they were doing their AIDS program that they do every year. Here is when moments #4 to infinity came out to play. I don’t have the words or the time to adequately paint the picture of the train wreck that was Kate last night, but if I were to try to punch it all down into a nut shell this would be it. We were watching a short video about a young girl with HIV. She was around eight years old and she weighed no more than an average one year old. You could see her skull perfectly through her skin, every rib was visible, her stomach was huge and distended the poor thing was wasting away and what Kate thought to say was “Eww, that’s so gross. You know those kids would feel so much better if they just brushed their teeth.”
And there you have it. I packed up my daughter and left the house.