First of all, this is going to be quick tonight, because the thermometer says that it’s 93 degrees outside right now, but I know it’s lying.
It’s really 582, and that’s in Fahrenheit.
THIS pretty much sums me up at the moment:
We just got back from our friend’s 5-year-old birthday party, which was a SMASHING success. Bob the Cucumber and Larry the Tomato were the guests of honor, and my friend, Jill (the birthday boy’s mama) hosted a party that is destined to be a Pinterest sensation, but…
… it was in an un-air-conditioned, multi-purpose room at their church, and my bra is currently full of enough sweat to say that my Victoria’s Secret is harboring the Mississippi River.
(Can I say that out loud on this blog?)
In addition to all the sweat, I suffered a severe accident on the way to the party. I was buckling Thing 2 into his carseat in the car, while he was playing with a battery-operated clown fish, that flips its tail around in swimming pools and bathtubs. As I bent over to click the five-point harness into place, my hair brushed against the plastic fish, and…
… it sucked all of my hair into the metal, mechanical tail, like it was a vacuum cleaner gathering lint.
Hubs had to help free my mane, which is why one enormous chunk of my hair is now a full two inches shorter than the rest of my hair. That evil fish has given me a lopsided hairdo.
Thank goodness this is summer, and my hairdo of choice is the sloppiest, messiest bun the world has ever seen, on a daily basis.
Hubs and I drove up the mountain this weekend and retrieved the boy from camp. I forgot my good camera, because OF COURSE I DID, so I just popped off a quick snapshot on my iPhone of part of their cabin crew.
And… yes. The boy really does look like he’s a bit too dressed up for camp, but it’s because they have a fancier banquet dinner on the last night of their camp session every year, that they’re required to wear something sort of nice to.
In the boy’s case, brown dress slacks and a green golf shirt.
And then my boy… ahem!!… SLEPT in his dress clothes over night, because he couldn’t be bothered to change out of them like his fellow, CLEANER cabinmates.
Our boy came home EXHAUSTED. His fingernails may never come clean. His dirty laundry smells like campfire smoke and teenage boy. He ripped one of his contacts. BUT… he made a new friend from another town… he learned more about Jesus… and he had a fantastic week, full of shooting .22s and pulling off pranks on their camp counselors. His stories will be told and retold for the next several months.
Also? Well, I was powerfully glad to have him back home.
Thing 2 spent some quality time playing CAR LOT with our little friend, Zoey, this weekend.
They lined up enough cars to circle the globe six times, and our toddler kept hollering, “Cars! Cars for sale!” When I tried to buy one from him, he told me, “Mommy, take a car. But don’t buy any of my tractors, because I won’t give them to you.”
Y’all have a very merry Monday evening. May your central air conditioning systems and your ice makers be working, in top-notch form tonight.