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Tom Wopat was a pansy

The Holy Grail….Loch Ness Monster….The Fountain of Youth…..Black clothing for children in the spring…..what do these things all have in common??

The search for all of the above can become an obsession that will not only drive you mad, but also take your entire lifetime!

As Peyton and I had a very special photo session coming up, I was sent on a furious mission to the mall. Goal : find a black shirt with long sleeves among a tidal wave of Valentines/Easter/Springtime frivolity. Peyton doesn’t own a lot of black and what she has is generally covered in some sort of colorful burst of girliness…hearts, animals, sparkly goodness. While I realized that trying to find a plain black shirt off-season was going to be hard, I hadn’t prepared for it to become an effort of futility matched only by teaching squirrels to knit.

I think it actually offended some of the salespeople that I would dress my child in something black when tis the season to PASTEL. Hey, if I want to put my kid in black, paint skulls and crossbones on her forehead and teach her all the words to AC/DC songs, it’s my business!

I did finally find a little jacket with a cute collar and big buttons that worked, it was the last one on the seasonal clearance rack in the LAST of 9 stores. I grabbed it with shameless desperation. I am triumphant!! I ROCK!! I can now leave the mall!!!

16 minutes. That’s how long she wore the shirt today during the photo shoot…and I have a feeling that all you’re going to end up seeing is about ½ an inch of it. I could have draped her in a tablecloth and been fine.

On to the newest issue.

When I got into the truck, I noticed that the door stuck a bit and a little bit of jiggling it was required to open the door. No biggie. Until I got home for the last time of the night, yanked on the handle to get out and the handle jerked free and into my hand. Right into my hand! I now have to roll down my window, open my door and let myself out, or wait on one of the kids to walk around and open the door for me. Peter is so very sympathetic to this new hitch, “You’ll have to Dukes of Hazzard it, hon.”

Really? I drive a Suburban…I’m 5’ 4”….picture me taking a running start and trying to leap, feet first, into the driver’s side window. I can only imagine the hospital bills that will accumulate from the multiple fractures and concussions THAT’LL lead to.

I’ll be sure to post photos. If I tell the police that it’s Peter’s fault that I’m all bruised up and missing an eye will they consider it domestic abuse?

The kids and I are off tonight to enjoy some time at Brad Richard’s suite…take THAT, Pete, for mocking my door-handle-pain!

f.r.o.G….fully relying on God

1 Comment on “Tom Wopat was a pansy”

  1. #1 Marie
    on Feb 13th, 2008 at 10:26 pm

    If you want to find something out of season you have to find a second hand thrift store! Everyone knows that!