I feel that this week it has become abundantly clear that there isn’t much going on here right now. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with that. It just makes for zero blog material that serves any purpose other than being a sleeping aid.
So I apologize for that.
Unless you’re over forty and prone to bouts of insomnia like I am. In which case, you’re welcome.
Part of the problem is I’ve just been so tired. I’ve been going to bed earlier than usual and I still wake up tired. Perhaps I should get my iron levels checked. Or maybe I have the West Nile.
Although when I suggested the West Nile theory to P the other day he totally blew me off because I may also have a touch of the hypochondriac.
Speaking of, this week is Red Ribbon Week at Caroline’s school.
(I’m pretty sure Red Ribbon Week is about saying no to drugs. I could tell you for sure if I’d paid attention to the flyer that came home. Also anything about saying no to drugs always reminds me of that episode of Diff’rent Strokes when Nancy Reagan guest starred and Arnold said, “Whatchu talkin”bout Mrs. Reagan?”)
And so every day is a different dress up day. On Monday the kids wore different colors in support of various causes. Tuesday was pajama day and I had no idea until Tuesday morning how many different variations on pajamas Caroline could concoct. It seemed to be directly proportional to how late she was about to be to school.
Wednesday, the kids wore their favorite team jersey and I’m proud to say Caroline not only wore her Aggie 12th Man jersey but also had me paint her face with an ATM. I feel that this little step of going the extra fan mile means there’s a better than 75% chance that she might eventually end up wearing a fake afro wig in team colors to a football game someday.
As we looked over the week’s dress-up days, I noticed that Thursday was designated as a day to dress up as what you want to be when you grow up. For the last few months, Caroline has mentioned several times that she wants to be an author and write books. So I asked, “Do you want to dress like someone who writes books?” while trying to figure out exactly what that would look like. Maybe a jacket with elbow patches? A pipe?
When P piped up, “They’ve already had pajama day.”
Well played, P. Well played.
Whatever the case, she’s decided she wants to be a professional soccer player this week. And so she’s going to wear her soccer uniform and I am eternally grateful because that’s easy. Especially since my version of an author outfit involved channeling C.S. Lewis.
In other non-interesting news, Caroline had a dentist appointment and didn’t have any cavities. The dentist mentioned she’s doing a good job of brushing her teeth which is good because I wasn’t sure if the twenty minutes she spends in the bathroom every night were actually spent brushing her teeth or just practicing all her different faces in the mirror while she dodges going to bed.
And then we left the dentist and I let her go with me to vote. I explained that voting was a privilege, that people have died for our freedom to choose our leaders, and that this is one of the most important elections I can remember. She said, “AND I get to miss the end of Music class”.
Yes, that too.
God bless America.