The guests-are-coming scramble

Bud's mom Bonnie (hi Bonnie!) is visiting this weekend with her friend, Pat. We are going to the World's Largest Yard Sale, which I'm not sure should be capitalized but if it is indeed The Largest, then I'm thinking it should. It stretches across...get ready...states! From Mississippi to Tennessee or something like that. Really, I just wanted to write em-eye-es-es-eye-es-es-eye-pee-pee-eye. Haha pee pee. I'm not even sure how this works, do you just stop at random intervals on the side of the road and rifle through stuff? Are there booths? Will there be anything cool enough to buy or will it be boxes of new plastic things that throw me off because yard sales are supposed to be made up of cool retro things from your attic you no longer want. What I'm really looking for is one of those lamps from the 60's that is curvy at the bottom and has a big shade on top? Also, why did I end that sentence with a question mark? I am trying to finish making the dog beds and figure out exactly how our living room should look. Because the television where it is makes me want to throw it off the balcony. Something I do often anyway and then Bud says, "we aren't living in 19th century England! You can't just throw things off the balcony!" but that is the redneck in me who also believes it is ok to park in the fire lane if it's only for a short time. Fires don't happen if I'm just grabbing tampons. I'd like to cut some flowers down to small stem sizes and put them in jelly jars around the apartment and plan our meals. Last time I planned what I thought was a cool meal though, someone spit it back into her bowl and although she is only 7, I am going for less risky ingredients now. Jerk. When I was growing up I always got a little nervous before guests visitited because my dad inevitably turned into a red-faced monster who ran around the house waving yellow slips of paper with our "lists" on them. "Did you get your list? Have you completed your list? VACUUMING WAS ON YOUR LIST AND IT IS NOT VACUUMED IN HERE!" Huh, maybe that is why I hate to vacuum. The sad truth is that now? I have lists everywhere. And Bud is the victim.