Hooray for Everything!

I married someone who is kinda into sports so naturally the Olympic takeover was all-consuming for the past two weeks. 29 of 32 shows recorded on our DVR started with “2016 Rio Olympics.” Who knew that synchronized swimming was a real thing (I thought it was only in movies from the 40’s) and apparently hand ball isn’t just something you play in 3rd grade P.E.. And what would the Olympic Games be without a burly German twirling, grunting, and launching a four-pound Frisbee as far as he can? There may not be any medals for participation but if you can prove it’s a sport (i.e. Germans throwing Frisbees) and become the best at it, then here’s your medal.Discus

In all honestly, you can’t deny how truly fascinating it is that men and women of all ages, shapes, sizes, and backgrounds put their bodies through hell all for a necklace that hasn’t been updated since Jesus-sandals were still worn by, well, Jesus. And heaven forbid you get the, still-reputable, ugliest of ugly, bronze. Don’t worry, your home country will still be proud but no one outside Uzbekistan talks about 3rd place. It’s like going to a potluck and bringing yet another bowl of pasta salad and knowing yours is the worst because two hours in, the other two bowls are empty and your bowl is still full. Probably because you got Pinterest-fancy and threw in a mushroom medley so people were scared to eat it. Welcome to third place at the potluck. Your prize, a mushroom medley pasta salad.

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I digress. So, as we say goodbye to Rio and hello to a rise in sales of ZIKA detox kits, life goes on. We can stop feeling sorry for ourselves as a 45 year old mom of three with half the body fat of a teenager crosses the finish line of her umpteenth marathon. We can go back to adding C-list celebrities to our Instagram friends and judge how they spend their money. Ask me how I know Michael Phelps just bought a $2.5 million home in Arizona, his fiancé loves their cement coffee table and Boomer is really enjoying the extra time with his “retired” daddy. Enjoy that while you can Booms… Tokyo 2020 is just around the corner!Boomer

Yes, the Japanese one.

My grandma has been in town for over a week and, as always, her visit has been more than inspiring for this blog. English is not her first language but she tries… as you can see here in her word scramble skills:

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Can I get the burger with no mashroms, a side of pase, and extra pepprse please?

She’s not only the spunkiest 88-year-old on the planet, her theories on pool safety, parking at night, and politics are the most entertaining thing since, well; politics. As we sat and watched snippets of the Democratic National Convention she was quick to say whoever wins this “’lection” needs to “fit (fix) this country” and despite his antics, “Arnold Tramp” is her favorite of the two. These grandma-isms have been a treat to witness my entire life.

From whatever age Southwest lets you fly alone, my parents would ship me off to El Paso, TX every summer for six weeks of free, grandparent-run summer camp. The weeks at Grandma Sovar’s house always proved to be the most interesting. Unlike other grandmas who take you to Toys R’ Us and let you eat the batter, Grandma Sovar would take me to sketchy pawn shops and the PX to buy tax-free generic bottles of Pert Plus and discounted groceries with her military ID. At night she would always remind me to “brush my teet” and I would wake up to her making scrambled eggs with chopsticks.

To this day I’m terrified to go in a pool when the filter is on because every summer I was reminded of the disturbing “fact” that pool filters kill children. She would say that, without a doubt, it would pull me to the bottom of the deep end and my intestines would then be sucked out my butt. As a seven-year-old you can imagine how scarring this theory was. The bright side? I have an excuse when people ask me why I still need to plug my nose and why I’m such a poor swimmer. Hello? Have you not heard how many children are killed by wild pool filters every summer?

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My grandma’s got skills.

My mom got a gym membership and made the mistake of telling Grandma Sovar she would start going to the gym after work. “Oh, Missie, you be careful. It so dark. Someone hide under your car and cut off feet.” What the…? The insanity and paranoia in this statement seems extreme but you better believe I still get in my car as quick as I can when I leave the gym after dark. And I always make sure to subtly look below as I approach my car with, what could be, a sadistic Achilles heel-chopping murderer hiding in the eight inches of clearance.

Even with all her theories and politically-incorrect comments, our family loves her. She’s always the first to let you know you’re getting too fat and you’ll get “diabeet” if you’re not careful. At 88, she still takes Zumba, Line Dancing, and frequently offends her “diverse” friends in her Purple Hat Society but “that’s just Mrs. Sovar.” A little rough around the edges but she means well.

Happy summer… watch out for those pool filters! And, as Grandma Sovar says, “You be safe!”