Lexi turned twelve last week, and to mark the occasion we made a mother/daughter trip to the mall where I bought her make-up and a push-up bra. No, I didn’t really buy her a push-up bra. That would have been ridiculous since everyone knows you don’t buy your daughter a push-up bra until her thirteenth birthday!
However, I did buy her make-up, and nail polish, and other fun, sparkly stuff that’s sure to send the message: You’re going to have to spend a whole lotta’ money to feel good about yourself from this day on. Happy birthday young woman; now suck in your tummy.
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I made something new for dinner last night; my own little concoction. Everyone licked their plates clean and rubbed their bellies. Also, no one got food poisoning thereby placing that dinner squarely in the win column according to my play book – all nice and centered in it’s own column; written in loopy handwriting.
Yeah I know, most gals would’ve just sealed up the leftovers and called it a night. But me? Nooooo, I have some narcissistic need to tell the entire Internet that I GAVE MY FAMILY A HOT MEAL!
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Heidi and I snuck in a quick shower after my Dad left this morning. I say snuck because we’re not supposed to be running the water until the well-tank is replaced. I won’t go into the salacious, riveting details surrounding the well-tank issue, except that there’s a well-tank and a float-thingy, and they have a problem. Trust me, discussing this subject in any further detail would be as pleasant as receiving a noogie administered by a girl, like me, who’s observed the no-running-the-water-or-shower-rule for the past four days. It’ RIPE here people!
Now it’s my understanding that running the water won’t actually damage the well-pump. However, if my Dad caught wind that we took showers this morning, his brain matter might come shooting out of his ears with such velocity that we’d need to clean-up the mess with soap and a bucket of water. Thus requiring we buy more bottled water. So let’s just keep it between you, me and the entire Internet. M’kay? Hear that Jordan? – you never read this post.
After our illicit showers, we toweled-off and Heidi made a beeline for her castle. Ben went to look for something to put her in since we’d forgotten to take care of this little detail before the shower, just as we always forget to find clothes for the girls before all the other thousands of prior showers. And each time we look at each other and are…Did YOU forget the clothes again? EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. We also enjoy, repeatedly, knocking our heads against the concrete basement walls.
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