A few questions Soph has asked me over the last couple of days:
While eating lunch at the Hunan today, and a group of cowboy hat clad burlyish guys walked in:
"Mom? Are they having a Chinese hoe-down?"
While playing My Little Ponies with me yesterday:
"Mom? Do My Little Ponies poop colorful poop?"
After performing a bellyflop--directly onto my belly:
"If you mind if I join you?"
She has started to preface a lot of her questions with "If you mind if...," as in, "If you mind if I get on the counter?" and "If you mind if I get out my Barbies." I'm not sure exactly where this little syntactical glitch stems from, but it is a little cute.
In other news, I put a load of my favorite clothes in the wash (read--the ones that fit) along with my mocha brown lipstick. The damage is irreparable. I've sprayed and washed and soaked and blotted and scrubbed. This doesn't bode well for my trip to Albuquerque in 5 days. S0--that sucked.
Also--the renaissance fair is in town, and Soph has suckered me out of about 20 bucks worth of tickets for the huge blow up slide thing. She loves it with a boingy bouncy passion that cannot be denied. So much so that I'm looking into renting it for her birthday. Which is coming up pretty soon, actually. Less than a month. I may cave and get her the floam. I may double cave and also get her an easy bake oven. Spoiled little shit.
Janzen is back up at his mom's house, and while I miss him, it's also nice to not feel like I need to come up with fun things to do everyday. In fact, today I'm pretty much not going to do shit. Soph and Bianca dragged all of the doll stuff into the front room, and I'm hiding out in my room. When I was a kid, my mom had days where she would say, "Unless someone's bleeding or dead I don't want to hear about it." This is kind of one of those days.
Today's best thing about being a mom:
While we were at lunch, she kept wanting to do that Lady and the Tramp thing with her lo mein noodles--both start at one end and meet in the middle. It did get old after a while, but was fun to start with.
Today's worst thing about being a mom:
While I was leaning across the table to cut up her chicken, I put my boobs smack in my plate--bright red sweet and sour sauce. Good thing I have a new bottle of spray and wash.