I went shopping for a new soccer ball for my daughter. (Full disclosure: by "went shopping" I mean I typed in 'Amazon.com' in my PJs while eating peanut butter with a spoon.)
I realize there are some products where different sizes or colors have slightly different prices, but this seemed a little excessive.
This is helpful for people who are looking for either a $9 soccer ball or an $80 one, but they can't decide which. Don't worry, Wilson's got your back.
Two messages popped up in my email inbox that had me a little confused.
In the 'From' field, there was just a random string of numbers at att.com. One said simply "Date night?" and the other said "What do you want for a treat?"
I was getting intrigued at who my secret admirer could be (or, more likely, what kind of weird phishing scam someone was running) until Phillip called later that day and asked if I got his texts.
Apparently his phone emailed me instead of texting me. Oh, and the treat was chocolate chip cookies in a mug with vanilla ice cream. I think it's important that you know that.
Historically I haven't been a big believer in going on individual date nights with the kids. We work together and see each other all afternoon and spend quite a bit of time together at home, but for some reason I felt like I needed to start taking each of the kids out recently.
It was the 4-year-old's turn so we went to the grocery store to pick out whatever she wanted from the bulk candy bin, then drove to the park.
She got to decide what we did on the playground, in what order, and where and when we ate the candies. It was the best day ever for her (I know because she was singing at the top of her lungs out the open window in the car) and it only cost me $1.49.
|Listening to a preschooler rendition of "There's a cat licking your birthday cake," the most annoying song on YouTube.|
While we were at the park I started chatting with some guy, and when I mentioned having 6 kids he literally leaned back like I'd hit him and quickly exclaimed something in Turkish to himself. (I didn't ask if it was a curse or a blessing.)
By the way, I love how he introduced himself: "This is my daughter Gamze and this is my daughter Arwa; we are Turkish." I wish I had so much pride in my identity!
We're waging a constant war against nature at our house, and we're largely losing. There are moles burrowing in the yard, squirrels getting in the house, and woodpeckers destroying the trim. I'm not even going to talk about the weeds. If all the species got together I'm sure they could easily force us out and win complete control of the house in less than a day.
Phillip even took a shot at a woodpecker who started pecking at the trim over our garage door with his BB gun. We've become those people.
But it gets better.
He propped up the BB gun on the porch next to the front door and forgot to tell me it was there, so it looked super-welcoming when everyone came over later and dropped their kids off for the co-op preschool I'm running. But hey, it's cool. Some people put a chalk-painted rocking chair or something on their porch, and some people use firearms.
(Actually, we were really embarrassed about this because Phillip is always telling the kids to treat BB guns like real guns. By not, you know, leaving them unattended on the porch like a freaking Pinterest decoration.)
My 3rd grader's teacher sends out periodic email updates on what they're doing in class, and I was thrilled to read the part that said "This week we explore the question 'Why are courts an important part of our government?'"
I thought Alright, now we're getting into some real, actual meaty learning! No more of this kindergarten "getting a visit from Mr. M the puppet to tell you all about what 'M' says."
The email continued: "We'll be reading The Trial of Cardigan Jones, a story about a moose wrongly accused of stealing a pie."
This is serious stuff, you guys. Serious stuff.
I was also buying some packing tape. Online, of course. (I've almost reached my goal of never having to leave the house again.)
I wanted to get refills for the dispenser we already have, but I couldn't tell if the one I was looking at would fit. There were a few pictures and then a video; I thought the video might show me, so I clicked 'play' and got this:
Obviously this packing tape video was lewd, lascivious, and completely inappropriate for anyone under 18. I ended up not watching the video, but I did order the tape so it could be pretty interesting when the package arrives and I open it up to see what's really in there.
Finally, being a mom is weird.
Because you find plastic pickles and a dime in your laundry.