So, we have a big cycling event coming to our little hamlet soon. Yes, I’m taking liberties because I like the word hamlet. And I got wind of a job called the Course Marshal which got me very excited. Apparently, you can volunteer to be one of these people who directs competitors and holds traffic. Basically, you are the ruler of your assigned part of the course. I’m all about that. Matthew got to hear how very excited I am to volunteer to be on of those folks. And this is where the blog post title comes into play. Because I’m a bit of a chatterer to put it very mildly. And I have a bit of a tendency to let my mind run like a wild animal when I get excited about something. It’s best if I’m in a room alone when this happens. So I can talk to a wall. Or maybe Lexi, my dog. She gets annoyed, but she’s a dog. What’s she going to do about it. She’s pretty much forced to listen. I am her caretaker. Suck it up, Lexi.
Anyway, I began regaling Matthew with all of my plans for when I snag my post as Course Marshal. I’m, of course, going to need the necessary accoutrements: uniform, badge, walkie-talkie, and gun. I’m a pacifist, so it’s a water gun, people. The gun is a Super-Soaker 2015-X42BADASS. Yeah, that actual Super-Soaker model doesn’t exist yet. I’m going to have to get them to special order it for me. Well, not special order it. Special design and then special order. I don’t know the specifics on how to get all of that accomplished, including which scientist will design the actual weapon for me, but I’m going to need one of those babies strapped on my holster. (Note: Make sure uniform includes holster.) If things get sideways on the course, I’m going to have to spring into action and restore order. What if there’s spitting? There’s definitely going to be spitting. I can make sure everyone knows that it’s not a spitting-as-insult type of spitting. See? That’s useful. It’s a good thing I’m there to help. Also, what if there’s a wreck? There’s a very good chance of that. Well, if it’s a very bad one, I can faint at the sight of a bone protrusion. Then, I can flag down a medic when I regain consciousness. Again, it’s a good thing I am there. Also, suppose some guy’s getting shirty because I’m making traffic stop for the cyclists? Well, I can pass him off to Matthew who will be there with me as the muscle. It’s my duty as Course Marshal to make sure I can handle any scenario. As far as the rest of my tools, I’ll need to make sure they have time to inscribe my name on my badge. I don’t want just some generic badge that doesn’t even identify me. That’s not professional. I’ll probably need to polish my walkie-talkie skills. It’s entirely possibly that it’s not, “Roger that,” anymore. Or “Come back.” (Note: Take a course on walkie-talkie skills if necessary. Don’t want the other Marshals mocking me.) I should probably figure out how I want the cyclists to address me. I like Captain. Marshal doesn’t sound cool enough. Should I have them bow? Kiss my ring? I don’t know. I have plenty of time to figure that part out.
As you can see, it gets pretty ridiculous. I think this is the hidden reason I had kids. So I have someone to listen to the absurdity. Anna is as ridiculous as I am, so we are a perfect match. And it helps Matthew to have someone else tag in. Hmmmmm. I think I’m talking to Anna more often than not. He’s abusing the tag team rules.