Act 1:

I started this blog as a little journal-esque whatchamacallit for Mason, so he can look back and see what a funny little shit he was. Leave it to the meathead to stop doing funny things. I take it back... he's still doing funny things... but how many times can I write about peeing erraticly. Or taking a dump on the kiddy slide in the backyard. (By the way... Mason took a massive dump on the kiddie slide in the back yard the other day... he quickly called my attention to it. I took a picture.)

So... until he ups the funny factor, and to please those of you who are crazy and read me... I will be posting a series of histories. So now Meathead will also be able to read this and see how he came to be. Without further adu:

The Macbeth Saga:

Act 1: In which Sandee falls madly in love with Adam...

I can't remember the exact day... or what I was wearing. I do know I was with my regular posse of fellow Bulldogs. I would be willing to bet my life I had a scrunchy around my wrist. Probably one in my hair, too... but I had to have one on my wrist otherwise, "O-mi-gawd, I like, totally feel NAKED without it." This was sixth grade... so it's possible that half of us (there were about 8 in our regular little group, I think) were wearing overalls, discussing our up coming volleyball/basketball/softball game, standing in a circle. I was the annoying smart-ass of the group. Making fun of everything and everyone... so cool because of my extra scrunchy and the fact that my mom would pack just a Coke and Doritos as my lunch. Way to go Mom.

My right hand man was prob at my side, let's call her Sticky... cause even though she ate like a pig, she was thinner than any part of my body ever would be. And feisty. And shared my enthusiasm for Ace Ventura. But actually we bonded in kindergarten, when we got in a fight over the twin boys in the class, Jake and Jim.
I don't know how we got in a fight over who got which one, cause A) I don't know which one was which.. and B) They were way more interested in playing cowboys than being our boyfriends. But from those fateful days Sticky and I were inseparable. Always somewhere between laughing hysterically and clawing each others eyes out over boys. I learned early on not to tell Sticky when I thought a boy was cute... cause it was only a matter of time before she turned her attention to my beau. (Sticky if you are reading this, I still maintain that I saw Trevor first and you completely ruined first grade for me by stealing him away). ANYWAY. This story has taken a slight detour... go figure. On we go.

We were all standing on the black top, waiting for P.E. class to start. P.E. was an exciting time for us sixth graders because it contained 6th, 7th AND 8TH GRADERS!!! Rest assured there were extra hair tosses and toe-pointed-hip-out stances from Sticky and myself. (The other girls, though I loved them, were not as boy crazy as us...). Here is where my memory starts:

I remember seeing a cluster of manly-ness walking up the pathway to the P.E. congregating area. Two of which caught my eye.

They were the loudest of the group. Yelling jokes, making farting noises, screaming randomly... you know, sexy stuff. The two were similar in looks... bowl cuts ( a must for any mid 90's junior high-er worth his weight in Devon Sawa Teen Bop pull out posters), taller and thicker then the other boys around them. The second boy had very promising buds of an early beard. The first had braces *drooooool* and a sharp, cute nose. Both held my attention as I flipped my hair and switched pointed toe sides in perfect unison.
Mr. Harrison, the balding P.E. teacher, who was always inexplicably carrying a gallon ziplock bag full of carrots, blew his whistle signaling the start of class.

We were playing soccer that week. I hate soccer. IT's dumb. It makes me want to eat chips and salsa. And yell "EYEYEYEYEYE!!!!" I was walking back and forth across the field, pretending to be following the ball... when I heard the "thwap-thwap-thwap" of helicopter blades. Followed by a deep baritone screaming, "THEY'RE COMING FOR US!!!!"
Followed by my new founded heart throb streaking across the field...
DIVING into the tall brush growing along the side...
And taking my heart with him.

Needless to say, it took only braces and obnoxious-ness to steal my affection. The bowl cut helped too...

Now, for SOME reason... the future MacDaddy did not fall madly and desperately in love with me and my overalls, scrunchies and broken arm. Despite what the Weejee board foretold. This MAY have something to do with the fact that he didn't know I was alive. (I'm sorry, but how many times do I have to call and hang up before you realize, "Hey! I bet its that girl with the broken wrist. I shall make her mine.")

Boys.

School ended a few months later... moving Adam up to high school and throwing me into 7th grade, and an ensemble of new crushes. Luckily, little junior high hearts are fickle and I didn't give Adam another thought... for about 2 years...

To Be Continued...

Don't worry... there are like, 4 more acts or something...
You might not even want to read the rest of the Macbeth Saga, cause I'm pretty sure someone is going to approach us to make a movie out of it soon...
In the mean time...
Cheers to scrunchies and Devon Sawa. (OMG remember when he came walking down the stairs all slow to some Mariah Carey song in Casper??? HOT! "Can I keep you?" Ironic foreshadowing anyone???)