A recap of what when down around here last week:
The Doctor was out of town the first half of the week, and I planned on taking advantage of the fact that I wouldn’t have to pick him up in the evening by doing some solid drinking. Number of drinks I actually consumed? Zero. I have never been one to capitalize on a situation.
My kindergartner uttered “Damn it,” much to my dismay. When asked where he heard it, he blamed it on a kid at school, much to my relief.
I cracked myself up with a butternut squash.
I shared one of my most embarrassing moments and tried to pimp out my brother-in-law.
Lily yelled at a boy at preschool until he cried. I told you guys, she’s not as sweet as she looks.
My mom got remarried a year ago, and last week Lily asked, “When’s Grandma’s going to have a baby?” Even my three year old knows how to nag a newlywed.
I bravely shared my top five list from 1996. I spent the rest of the week defending the list to disgusted friends and family members.
Graham drew a picture of a spider for his arachnophobic kindergarten teacher, and was so disappointed when she said she loved it. “I wanted her to be scared,” he lamented.
The Doctor came home with gifts for his family. A big Lego set for the boy, a small Lego set and a Tinkerbell shirt that has more glitter than a strip club for the girl, and a gigantic meatball sub from Carmine’s for me. After all these years, he still knows what gets me going.
I got misty walking through the toddler boy’s department at Old Navy.
I participated in my first writing prompt, sharing a time when I got busted in high school.