Special

Fyi... this is my 2nd attempt at writing this. I'm losing it, I tell ya. Here goes. If it deletes again, then it means it's just not stories that are meant to be told I guess. =(
In no particular order, this is my life:

I (unintentionally- obviously!)washed and dried brownies. Now my pillow cases and blankets smell like brownies. Kind off. Not nearly as cool as it sounds. Maybe more like baker's chocolate? Apples too made it into that particular load. They held their form well, considering.

Lu had 3 armpit hairs that we named and she tried to cut w/scissors…not safe. So in the process of her first shaving event (after I bought her a shaver), she also shaved off her eyebrow.

Oh also…. I had Lu pack her bags for camp into the car before church in case we didn’t have time to go back home after church on Sunday. Somehow, someway I ended up with the biggest smear of ink (sparkly purple….maybe puff pen paint?) on the arse of my pants. Maybe there was a reason that I sat in the back of church and pushed the buttons for the computer (more than just the regular gal was gone….) but this wasn’t revealed to me til after church. Now I HAD to jet home to change my clothes before the funeral. Ugh!!!!!!!!!

So church, then funeral, then during the funeral scoot away long enough to stand in 100- weather to check in Lu to summer camp

Again back to the funeral…. At a very large local county park… again still 100- weather. My dad is not there, but should be, where is he? I joke with a friend that my dad in a very Walter Matthau kind of way will show up late and wander directly into the very middle of the funeral and then loudly say my name to see if I respond to see if he’s in the right place. NOT JOKING…10 minutes later I see my dad’s car pull into the parking lot a little ways away. I send Nat back behind the funeral and around the side to go get him and show him where we are. Didn’t go as planned. I then see Dad wandering aimlessly around the edge of the lawn (kind of trying to be stealth, but he’s kind of a larger man, and wearing a very large sombrero type hat) trying to look for where he should be. All eyes are on him now. Swell. THEN… there is Nat galloping in her hot pink shirt running after him, but ducking behind bushes as she goes (so not to attract attention… but inevitably attracts MUCH MORE attention) trying to catch him. This is my family. =) Yay me.

Bad communication on so many levels really all by myself just not communicating events in a timely manner to the part of my brain that needed to know... last minute this morning figured out that I had to bring Nat with me to work. Needed to get through time cards so staff can be paid on time and then a teleconference. That's all. Then of course a few minutes after the call should have come thru for the meeting… got an email from my boss that he was running late and would just meet me at my office. Did he tell me that he was already in the parking lot? NO. Did he tell me the other big-wigs were here on site and not up at corporate? NO. OMG I almost choked….as I had Natalie literally hiding in the corner of my office doing projects. Special. If I was to go back and count those moments, perhaps there was one minute from the time I desperately called for a friend, shooed Nat out the door and cleaned up her clown/post-it/cardboard/glue/highlighter project that was in the corner of my office. And then there he was. Have I mentioned that although I have staff who report to me, I'm really just a peon? Have I made it clear that he is very important and the CFO and VP of Finance? Why do I put myself in these situations? Oh well. I made it out alive.... and no one was the wiser.

Lastly, hubby said he was going to get a car cover for this old wreck of a classic car that is sitting in my driveway rotting. I was fully supportive of the purchase of the car cover. He comes home with this extra -large tent looking thing.... are we hosting a circus?It is hideous. It's really only going to draw more attention to the old car because it's bright white and all. He asks for help putting it up. I tell him no. It's ugly and downright shameful and I'm not touching it. He's hurt, says he'd help me if I asked. I said do you really need my help? Yes. I say: Do you realize that you are a Marine and are trained in killing people in hand to hand combat with no other help... and yet you cannot put up this thing that you super sized from a car cover to a circus tent all by yourself?

I have a headache. Gee I wonder why?