Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Bunch of Good Grief

The musical is officially over. And Child #1 is in a bit of a funk. She's a little bit sad and a little bit perplexed with her sudden free time. For me personally, I'm rather thrilled to have her around again. She exudes a unique sarcasm that just makes this family whole.

She has left this little pile on her bathroom counter:
All the bobby pins she used every night to pin up her 50's styled hair. I sorted and counted them out. Just for fun. 81. No wonder it took her over an hour to do her hair each night.

I noticed them while I was gathering up her laundry. Because, I'm the kind of mother that demands they bring their own laundry downstairs, and they ignore me, so I go upstairs and gather it for them. But, don't you worry. I yell at them and insist this is the last time I'm picking it all up for them. I even stomp my foot while my yelling spews forth.

And I just end up gathering their laundry again the next week.
We've been over this. I lack effective parenting skills.


Yesterday morning, I went about my daily routine. Got The Favorite out the door and onto the bus. Then I sat at the computer reading email and NOT scanning Pinterest for a lengthy amount of time.

I then headed to the kitchen. Low and behold, my back door was open. Wide open. Cold air rushing in everywhere.

Let's just stop here for a millisecond and discuss my extreme and rational paranoia of robbers. It's huge. Gargantuan. The Husband bought me a home security system years ago for my birthday. Greatest gift ever.

So, you can imagine my utter shock and fear at seeing my back door open. My rational mind told me that the teenagers just hadn't shut it tight when leaving. But my regular, day-to-day brain told me someone was in the house. Just waiting to steal my cute decorations. And probably some of my candy.

I did the only logical thing I could think of. I called my sister.

I made her promise, the cross-your-heart-hope-to-die kind of promise, that if I was attacked she would rush right over and do my hair and makeup so I would look presentable when the authorities arrived. It's all about priorities, people.

She stayed on the phone with me while I walked room to room looking for the intruder. She was smart enough to remind me to check the showers too.

We hung up the phone when the cost was all clear. She called back 10 minutes later just to make sure I wasn't dead. Sisters are the greatest.


My cousin decided to dig out old photos. The ones where everyone looks ridiculous. OK, not everyone. Just me.

I'm going to pause here and just let you take in my hair. Actually, the shape of it....There are no words, right? Except this one-- Triangle. My cousin (sitting there looking like a gorgeous Farrah Fawcett next to my Grandma who is rockin' the visor) thinks I should get royalties for creating the first Dora The Explorer hair style. Super-dee-duper amazing.

Can you see my blue eye shadow? Oh, and guess where we are? At the beach. The beach! And I've used an entire aerosol bottle of Aqua Net to tease my hair into a geometric shape! For reals. It's so fantastically crazy.

When I showed this picture to my kids, they were all sorts of impressed. Or scared. I couldn't quite tell the difference.

And my sister, you know, the one I called when my life was in danger? She has decided to call me "Triangle" from now on. "Tri" for short.

Good grief.



penny said...


penny said...