Speaking of rebels~today I got a little bit Crazy in the Spring air~I went outside for some exercise, cuz I figured four months off was probably about right~it was time to get back on that little red wagon. So I did, but nobody would pull me. I yelled and yelled and yelled...and can I just say, "BAD FORM" to those very SELFISH preschoolers who just walked on by.
Anyway, I was forced to HOIST my agile, ballerina body up and out, to mosey my girth away, but it actually ended up being fine, folks, because there was BREEZY BEAUTIFUL AIR SWISHING THROUGH MY HAIR. AAAAHHHHH!!!!! I flared my nostrils and sucked as much as I could into my depleted coffers, because there is really nothing quite like that fragrance. Better even than freshly cut diamonds.
But then suddenly, I became ill. Mm hmm. Spring Fever. Debilitating without proper medication. So I popped a couple (bags) of Cadbury eggs, grabbed the keys and the sons and went in search of stuff.
I like to think stuff has a soul, you know? Else how could the nurturing instinct be so powerful as to make me snatch and clutch it to my ample bosom, and then take it home with me without a second thought? I'm a giver, people...A caretaker........I AM A stuff foster parent.
"Who's a good stuff? Hmmm? Who's a good stuff?! YOU are! Yes, you are! Youz a good stuff! Yes, you is! (pet, pet, baby talk, coo) You da MOST BESTEST STUFF in the whoooooole wiiiiiide woooorld! Soooooo fun! Sooooo pretty! (pet, pet, caress, stroke) Ooooh, Mommy loves a pretty stuff!" (belly farts and flinging toss in the air)
Anyway, sons, stuff and I had a wonderful bonding experience. And they've named their new sister, "Hollister shirts." Darling.
But the most fun of all was that there was a truckload of students (teenage girls) there in the mall~ from England~which made them HIGHLY DESIRABLE to my sons. SKYSCRAPER, HELICOPTER, TOWER OF BABEL DESIRABLE. And I was witness to their superior flirting skills, people. Pleasantly surprised, as the apples fell~or were hurled with athletic prowess~faaaaarrrrr from the tree.
I sucked. it. up. in High School flirting. My older sister ROCKED THE SCENE! But me...I stood in the wings watching the play, face and fingers smeared against the window pane~on the outside looking in, always a bridesmaid~never the bride, the square peg in the round hole, living on the Island of Misfit Toys...well, you get the idea. So I was cheery to see the next generation takin' things up a notch.
Anyway, where were we? Oh, yeah. Stuff. Bought a bunch. And like the poisoned-by-her-own-mother-girl on "The Sixth Sense,"......"I'm feeling much better now."
5 comments:
"Spring Fever" IS in the air Lisa. Sorry about those thoughtless school children, it would have been a good laugh for neighbors watching you going around the block with your hair tossing! And also to watch the flirty teens at the Mall with Tower of Babel power.
My Spring Fever caught me at the J&J nursery very early, (as early as you were out waiting for a red wagon ride.) I'm now a Foster parent of a few new plants for the shop...they (the plants) encouraged me to re-arrange the tables in the front window of the shop in preparation for the spring merchandise..meaning tables changing places, cleaning windows and floors, you know "spring fever"...it hurts at night. Meaning lay on the couch. No metamucil. Aleve was it.
You crack me up and STUFF is good, very very good!I was self taught about STUFF as my mother is NOT a STUFF person AT ALL.(walmart is her STUFF of choice and only goes when there is NO PEOPLE there 7:30 a.m.) I am determined to never let this happen to me.
Oh Spring Fever and pheromones apparently...
I adore your boys. Forgot to tell you how cute they were at the Dunes. Overheard- "Dude did your bone on your arm ALWAYS stick out that far?" The mother in me wanted to run over with ice packs and chocolate however the 'biker chic' in me said to offer him a bottle of water and licorice. Either way I figured he'd look at me with the typical teenager response of 'who are you and why are you trying to hold & comfort me?'
Good times. I see a Robins Egg Blue TTR125 in your future...maybe not.
Amberlee, that is hysterical! I can just imagine you soothing my son who is a foot taller than you. I'm just glad I wasn't there to feel the angst when he wrecked.
Brenda, AAGGHHHH!!!! Walmart was your mother's only stuff fix? There is something really wrong with that. But it explains so much about your beautiful shop. That's why I make my daughter keep her hair long and put pretty things in it~because I screamed bloody murder when my own mother tried to even brush mine. You show her what stuff collecting is really all about!
No...I said Walmart IS my mothers only stuff fix...before that there was nowhere else. No stuff. Plain Jane. No stuffaholic in her.
And...wait till you see what I blog about later on...nothing faux and I did this BEFORE I took (or read) your scolding about fake food!
Lisa, you should have just told your son that in England the girls don't shave their legs or armpits. It would have been the truth. But he may not have cared. Maybe they have finally imported cheap razors there since I was there last. ;)
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