Sorry. Exhaustion got the best of me last night.
I promise to post a few pics of me wearing the Damson soon. (I have it on today. It is faaaaaaaaaaabulous. Totally worth all the grief I gave myself over it)
And here's an incredibly uninteresting shot of the Featherweight in progress:
Woo! Try not to get too excited over that one.
Who's rockin the free world now, baby?
A couple of funny stories
For some reason our local Dominican grocery store was carrying 51oz bottles of Russian beer (Baltica Grade 9, to be exact). I have no idea why. The price was right ($2.25 for a bottle) so we picked up a couple, and we decided that my coworker Joe should have one, as he's a big beer drinker.
The next morning, I pack up the gigantic bottle of beer to take it into work for Joe, and set off down the street towards the subway. The bag I was carrying the beer in broke, so I find myself walking down the street at 7:30am carrying this enormous bottle of beer. People kept passing me going "YEAH BABY! Starting early today!"
Heh.
Anyway, Joe was very pleased with the gift. I haven't heard yet whether or not he's had any.
And now it's time for the quotable Georgia:
Two days ago she had to wear her uniform pants to daycare rather than her uniform dress because all of her dresses were dirty. Georgia complained heartily about it that morning, but by the time I picked her up that afternoon she seemed perfectly happy with wearing them.
Later that evening, Bruce, Ella, Georgia and myself were all hanging out in the living room, and out of the blue, Georgia pipes up with "I hate these fricken pants and I'm not wearing them any more!"
BAHAHAHAHA... We were desperately trying not to laugh while telling her that she shouldn't say "fricken."
then...
Yesterday morning, after a long night of being woken up randomly by stuff, Georgia walks into our bedroom first thing in the morning and declares, "I HAVE NIPPLES!"
ok. She goes on to inform us that "Daddy has nipples. Auntie Ella has nipples, and Mommy has boobs and whatnot."
Snort. I've been trying to figure out what constitutes "whatnot" but she won't say.
Ooooh, baby, I love your whatnot...
ReplyDeleteI love it! "Kids Say the Darndest Things" PG-13! :)
ReplyDelete