Good-Bye, Navy Gravy Train. Hello, Retired Life.
06 June 2013
Friday, May 31, 2013, was Rob's last day of Active Duty service in the United States Navy. Woohoo! Congratulations, PR1 Odette! (He loves being called that - just ask him.)
Also, Pride-Tradition-Service immediately made me think of PTS... Post-Traumatic Stress. Just sayin'. Anyway.
To commemorate the occasion and because we had to, our first stop of the day was at t he DEERS office of Homestead Air Force Base for new retired IDs. Everyone but Sophie got one; she's not old enough yet, and this was no minor annoyance to her! I put on zero makeup for the occasion, since I have enough crap on my face what with the trillion bazillion freckles I'm currently sporting.
We headed for IHOP for lunch, since someone said something about pancakes for breakfast. Rob was all about it and turned the steering wheel in that direction. Only, there was a wait (imagine that, IHOP, busy?), and I didn't feel too well, so we went to Golden Corral instead.
Uh, dumb and dumber.
I'd forgotten that Golden Corral is like the Walmart of restaurants. Ugh. Also, they have, according to the manager, changed their corporate policy on gastric bypass patients. Have you ever gone to a buffet with someone who has a gastric pouch the size of your thumb? Not very cost-effective. They used to let us get the buffet at the kids' price, but no longer. Dumberer. And Chloë and I both became sick during eating. Coincidence? You decide.
Try to ignore the gross mattress, which will soon be replaced, because ew. After Golden Corral, we got home and Rob put together the girls' bunk beds. Finally; we've been here two months and it was about time. Chloë's been sleeping on the couch, and Sophie's mattress has been on the floor. So they're excited, a wee bit.
Soap took a nap after that. Guess the excitement got to her. Mm, look at those luscious lips. I lurve them. So smooshy! And I know, I know, she needs to stop with the thumb, but seeing it reminds me that no matter how big she gets, she's still my itty bitty baby!
Here's Jack with Hunter. Or is it Lucky? Hucky? Lunter? I don't know. They're SO cute, but I am really tired of having these kittens around. It's officially on Rob's agenda for later today to drop them off at the no-kill shelter. They gotta go. We might even pare down the pack further; it's been discussed. It's on the table.
Since everyone still wanted pancakes - except me. I don't really DO pancakes; it's not such a gastric bypass diet food, y'know? - we took Rob out for his retirement dinner at IHOP after all. They all had pancakes. Rob had a billion other things, because he is NEVER full, you guys, and I had an egg and cheese and spinach and egg omelet. It was delishamus.
I had an iced coffee, too. Yeah, I'm one of those annoying iPhonographers who Instagrams everything she puts in her mouth. Because you know why? It's fun. Have you heard that Nickleback-parody song about Instagram? Rob played it for me, and that's SO me. Too funny.
Speaking of Instagram, have you guys seen Projecteo? So cool: you get a little wheel with 9 of your Instagrams, and it comes with a projector to shoot them up on your wall or whatevs. How fun is that? Instagram party, anyone? I'm up for it. Too bad we don't know anyone here yet! At least not in homestead. Our closest pals are, like, a 45-minute drive on the Turnpike.
Hi, I babble.
Chloë got sick for the second time at IHOP. So maybe it was just a coincidence we both did at Golden Corral? I don't know. I asked Mamacita and Dr. Lisa what that might be about, and Doc suggested reflux. She had it really bad as a baby, so that could be. Poor kid. It seems to have passed now, though, but if it recurs, I'm putting in a call to a pediatrician pronto. I have GERD (acid reflux disease), and it is NO fun to suffer with.
I swear this post was going to be about Rob retiring. It's fun to ramble, though, you know?
So what have you guys been up to lately? No one ever tells me; I don't know why I keep asking!