Let me preface this with: I am in no way a professional barber. I am just cheap.
I cut my family’s hair. I even trim my own bangs, though I haven’t lately. The woman who cuts my hair (3-4 times a year, whether it needs it or not) gets a little frownie line between her eyes when she sees I have taken the scissors to my hair. I figure it is safe to say I am not exceptionally good at it.
I hate wearing shoes in the summer. My feet seem to be my whole body’s thermometer. Most of the year, I have to wear slippers. If my feet are cold then I feel cold. If my feet are hot and sweaty, be prepared for me to be grumpy.
My final round of trashy magazines hit my mailbox last week. The special price had ended, and let’s face it: without the Stephen King column in the one, I really had no reason to get it. We get to see a movie on the big screen maybe once a year, not counting free kids movies or “must see” kids movies.
HRH was having a particularly rough day, last week. So El Jefe sat down with her on the couch, tucked her under his arm, kissed the top of her sweet head, and pulled up Amazon on his iPhone. Search: Girls’ shoes. He’s such a good daddy. And such a sucker!
Life has a funny way of saying, “Hey, what the heck. Are you an idiot?” And often, I’ll reply, “Yup;” sometimes when someone is looking… just to make them think twice about sitting next to me… because everyone needs their space. Yes, I’ve been walking in a daze. Let me add to that…for the past year and a half. Half exhausted from my non-sleeping one-year-old (and the whining and tantrums of the six-year-old); half carb-induced because I can’t seem to stop shoveling in chicken nachos. What is it with that stuff? Umm…yes, I’m eating a heap now.
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