If there's a weakness I have, I suppose it would be cookie dough.
Well, that's ONE weakness anyway.
A few days ago ...
Amanda: Know what I'm in the mood for?
Me: What?
Amanda: COOKIE DOUGH.
Me: Yeah, but we don't have any chocolate chips.
Amanda: So???
Me: Good point.
So we went to the kitchen and made chocolate chip cookie dough, sans chocolate chips.
As we stood there with loaded spoons in our hands and sugar-induced grins on our faces ...
Amanda: This is shameful.
Me: Yep.
Before getting to the Meg Original, you need to know some back story ...
The day prior to Father's Day, Megan swam and got a sunburn on her face. The more time passed, the more it hurt. So Henry encouraged her to apply either some aloe vera or Dermoplast to help with her discomfort. She tried the aloe vera and complained of it stinging. I was later able to talk her into using the Dermoplast which did NOT sting.
Okay, that's all you need to know.
After purchasing Father's Day cards for Henry, I figured we were good to go.
Apparently, Megan felt differently because she made the following Father's Day booklet. Each sentence below was on its own page:
Thanks for being such a great dad.
You are AWESOME!!!!
Thanks for making me breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert.
You are so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so GREAT.
You made my sunburn sting, just the way I like it.
You're the BEST dad in the world.
Love, Megan
Here are some pictures of us together.
Me: Amanda you can't possibly expect to keep ALL of those stuffed animals.
Amanda: I'm going to put them on the shelves in my closet once they're cleared off.
Me: But there are SO MANY. Do you really need to keep all of them?
Amanda: Mom, have you heard of the 'No Child Left Behind' act?
Me: Yeah.
Amanda: Well this is the 'No Stuffed Animal Left Behind' act.
Me: Nice.
Amanda has been begging me to help her clean her room, so she and I spent the last 3 afternoon/evenings working on it. The goal (besides a clean room) is to rearrange her furniture and try to make her room feel more like the 6th grader she is (Lord, help me!), rather than the 1st grader she was when we moved into this house.
Well, as of last night, we were about 90% there. The floor was almost completely clear, except for under the bed (shocker).
Today we tackled the under bed "dumpster" and I have to say, I was feeling pretty great.
Then it happened.
She asked where I'd put all of her stuffed animals last year when we tried to create a space for a "reading corner" in her room.
I said, "They're in the garage in 2 big black garbage bags."
WHY DID I TELL HER THAT?!?!?
Within 5 minutes, the 2 steps forward became 57 steps back:
I give up. No really.
It's summer, so I've been trying to go through the girl's rooms and get rid of anything that's just taking up space.
While going through the past year's schoolwork, I came across this note that Megan wrote to her future adult self. An oath to never eat salad.
As a woman in America, I find this hilarious. But I won't tell her that. No need to dash her dreams, right? I mean, maybe she'll be the one female to never eat lettuce. Time will tell.
Don't get me wrong, there are PLENTY of things I dislike about mammograms.
I mean, they're extremely awkward, (Hi total stranger. Sure you can touch 'em. I mean, we've been together in the same room for like 2 minutes now, right?)
And just when you don't think you can be squeezed any flatter, the tech literally tightens the screws to flatten your pancake down to a crepe. Nice.
So yeah, while I dislike this procedure for the aforementioned reasons, the WORST thing about them, in my opinion, is this:
Why, oh WHY must there be pictures on the referral form from my doctor?! She handed it to me in February, and it's been laying on my desk at home ever since. Sometimes it peeks out from under another paper and just stares at me, and I think, "I know, I KNOW!! I've gotta' make an appointment to get those things smashed. Stop yelling at me!" And then when I actually go in for the appointment, I have to pull the paper out again, and hand it over to the receptionist. And there they are, staring at us both. Again I say, AWKWARD.
If a picture on the referral form is necessary, I'm thinkin' we can do better. This, for instance, would be much less embarrassing and much more accurate:
Who's with me?
