This is How We Roll

Rollin’ around.

While visiting Iowa last week, I resided with my Gma in her studio apartment at a retirement home.

My roommie.

I not only found myself without Internet access along with shitty phone service and an overabundance of daytime TV, I also found myself without a vehicle among miles and miles of cornfields.

Nope, still not heaven. Just Iowa.

Although we love one another, being cooped up in 400 square feet with someone for days can lead one to be a tad irritated edgy claustrophobic.

We decided that venturing a few blocks to the town square shouldn’t be too big of a feat. And while Gma is perfectly capable of walking, traipsing up and down streets isn’t her strong suit at 91, so we borrowed a vehicle from her buddy.

Motorized by CBXB.

We were a traffic stopping duo, as cars had to wait for minutes while I popped wheelies to get Gma up and over a curb to the restaurant where we intended to be ladies who lunch.

Selfies cause gridlock when you take them in the middle of the road.

Bricks aren’t kind to wheelchairs. Or their drivers.     Photo – Wikipedia

After scooping the loop down Main Street a time or two, Gma announced that she was thirsty and I kicked into a gear so high I think I left a trail of smoke knowing a cold bottle of wine awaited our arrival.

Happy hour awaits!

We decided it was best to sit out on the porch and watch everyone else (while we also talked about them) drive by in actual vehicles as we sipped (well, she swigged, I gulped) our evening vino.

Busy bodies on a balcony deck.

Who needs a rental car when you can wheel it around town?

That’s just how we roll.

CBXB

Trashtacular 90th Birthday Shenanigans

Can you imagine turning the big nine-oh? I can’t either (really, I can’t imagine my liver lasting that long). But my family certainly turned up the class when we were celebrating behind the scenes at my Grandma’s 90th birthday shindig, starting off with her heart bursting in pride at my inability to wash off rub on tattoos I’d received at the Iowa State Fair the day prior.

Tough enough to celebrate 90?

Of course we threw Gma an appropriate celebration complete with cake, cookies, punch, old friends and best (depends on how you look at it) of all  – family.

Nonagenarian in her birthday glory!

Party girls! All five sisters are still alive and kickin’ it into their 90s.

Whenever the seven of us are now in the same state, my immediate fam always feels the needs to take a photo just in case we use it at holiday time.

Smile! Might be the Christmas card this year…but it for sure won’t be because the babies aren’t looking into the camera. Plus, why do I have two dark holes as eyes?

During the four-hour throw down, a few of us cousins snuck off to Aunt Crispy’s house for a quick cocktail.

None of the 90-year-olds even noticed we went missing.

The celebrating really started when we spiked the punch and got out the elaborate appetizers at the after party.

Nothing says fancy like Anderson Erickson French Onion Dip and party sized Ruffles!

We took turns primping in the new hand mirror my sister gifted me…

Definitely not the fairest in the land.

I cheated on Captain for the first time ever (hurt so good) and used Lady Bligh for Skinny Pirates.

You can catch me on the next episode of Cheaters.

Friendly, loving sign language was exchanged as I “made” family members sign Gma’s guest book, accompanied by a favorite memory with her.

Tough times signing the book (even though it’s her own son).

With the addition of B and B, we were sure to keep the after-party baby friendly.

Party animals taking notes from Auntie CBXB.

As we turned their binkies into new wine glass decor.

Binky booze charms will be all the rage. Mark my words.

We then felt the need to forgo glasses and just pass the bottle, in old-fashioned, celebratory, heathen-style family fun.

Who needs a glass?

Once we threw the stemware out, we felt it appropriate to just use our hands to eat left over cake.

Don’t forget to lick under your fingernails.

And what family birthday party is complete without someone taking their shirt off and using it as a turban?

Uncle T’s head was cold. Really cold.

Taking one’s shirt off also means you can just let it all hang out…all over the kitchen table.

Bonding time over the gut strut.

You may think that all of this white trash birthday behavior would be enough to make one go mad…

I don’t care about your gut Uncle T! This mirror won’t answer my question. AM I PRETTIER THAN SNOW F’ING WHITE?!

But I was still concerned with not being the fairest in all of the land.

I’m sure you’re wondering if my clan is available to attend your next family gathering. The answer is yes. But we do require chips, dip and booze. Lots of booze. Oh, and a piece of your square footage to lay our weary party heads when it’s all over.

CBXB