And That Poor Station Can Heal From Having His Oil Checked

I have decided that I am no longer wearing a jacket for the rest of this season. I think that if I rebel from wearing anything winteresque it will be like saying take it or leave it Winter, but I will have nothing to do with you anymore. And so far it has been going pretty good, for me. Station is now at the mercy of, not only the weather, but of my wavering internal temperature and so graciously has been giving me his coat each time I refuse to leave without such preparations and later regret it when it is snowing outside. I have decided to go back to the drawing boards with that idea. More on that later.

For the "big game" that was on Sunday, we went over to my Aunt's house. Station and I were given our first, of many to come, food assignment. Chips and dips assortment. Sweet. As a way to show our young hip-ness we decided to make our own chips and dips. However, Saturday rolled by with nothing to show. So Sunday, there may have been some Sabbaths broken, but there was some chips and there was some dips. And I still even managed to fry out some too chewy tortilla chips. All in a matter of an hour. Too bad we were late so everyone was done snacking and were getting down to the good stuff. But, I am happy to say, that whatever wasn't eaten, I ate on the way home, while Station patted me on the head and told me I was such a good eater.

{I don't know why this area is underlined, or how Station is suddenly so flexible}

To be honest, I hadn't really payed attention who was playing. Which shouldn't be any sort of surprise since I never have. But after the game, Station's dreams came true. He got to wrestle my uncle. Except it was more like large man tackle little man and cause both of their significant other's palms to sweat. But our sweaty palms were only on behalf of Station.

{now now [uncle] let's all settle down}

After, Station told me that never in his wrestling life had he just not tried. I guess trying to move another human that is two of you is more work then it looks. Besides, Station's brother-in-law says it is bad for the back. Sometimes, I forget how not fragile other humans are when they are in a setting where people are watching them. The whole time they were fighting, I was hiding in the corner, along with my sweaty palms, worrying that he was scared of having my whole family sitting and laughing. When after the fight Station casually asked who won. He likes public speaking, and I don't. I guess that is how it goes.

{"he is a little twig"}

{ I think this is the move that later made me tell Station that he is not allowed to try that on me, there was a lot of flopping limbs rolling around on the ground}