Happy Halloweenie.

Halloween 1987.

Halloween 2011.

Things that have stayed the same:
1. My costume.
2. My haircut.
3. My mouth to body ratio.
(You know those wax lips people handout at Halloween? When I was a kid I legitimately thought they were modeled after my mouth/didn't get what was so funny about them, because on me they looked "normal".).

if this isn't what aunts are for, then i'm at a loss.

I stopped by Burger King with Lu in the car.

FOR THE RECORD, I was getting myself an unhealthy dinner, not her. She'd already eaten. See, I only model bad eating habits. I don't promote them. But even if I did, well that's what Aunts are for. For example, when I was nine and my aunt was 24, she shoved 36 marshmallows in my mouth as an "experiment" for "science". By the time you get to about 20, the marshmallows start dissolving and a sugar coating forms/numbs the inside of your mouth. Incidentally, I threw up all over my grandparents kitchen. Now that is modeling and perpetuating bad eating habits.

Also, I see I've digressed from my original point.
Lu was in the car when I was at Burger King so obviously we got a BK crown for her to wear. I mean, obviously.

She was stunning in her crown.

OK I see by this picture that I may (may) have negated my whole eating habits paragraph. So what, maybe I did let her have a fry or two but who's counting? Off my back. She's in footy pajamas and a BK crown. You try saying no.

So she's wearing the crown and I say "Lu, you look like a princess".
She says "No Sister. Cuz if I was a princess, I'd haves a pretty dress. So I'z not a princess."

Oh. Well. I can change that.
One quick trip to Ross and a swing by target, and we can go ahead and cross that life problem off her list.

"Lucy. Don't you run into the street."
Response: That face.

i can't really ask for more.

Ok so maybe sometimes I want to divorce him.
I mean, who wouldn't when he makes things like homemade maps? And he has so many other past offenses that really, it's not like I'm just jumping off the deep end here when I said I wanted out the other day.

The ships wheel. Which I'm sorry to say is still on our banister despite my best efforts. I've tried NUMEROUS times to take it down and I always end up yelled at. Not by Chuck. By everyone else. Namely, my girlfriends and Lucy - who even at 2 is already learning to side with Chuck.

The white pants incident of Ought-9. I don't need to go into much detail here.

And anytime he makes this face. I hate this face. It's so sappy and creepy. Plus he always does weird things like, oh I don't know, stand with a lighted candle and wait for me to walk by. He stands like this in the kitchen, for god knows how long and just waits for a reaction. I'm working sooooo hard on not giving him when.

But then sometimes he makes all the other things at least a little ok, tolerable and somewhat redeems himself.

We made calzones tonight - love of my life - and Chuck is in charge of folding the calzones and making the nice edges. Charles in Charge (of our baked Italians goods and our folding). Sing it with me.

Tonight, he went above and beyond and surprised me with a monogramed calzone - monograms made by carefully positioned pieces of grated cheese.

That is why we are perfect together.
He thinks of this crap.
And I think it's funny.

And that's our kind of love.
(Thank God we found each other when our ages still ended in teen because we never would've had a chance in the real world trying to date real people.)

pretty typical reason to hate your husband.

This is the kind of thing Chuck does that just makes me want a divorce.
OK. That might be a slight hyperbole. OR not far enough. Tough. To. Tell.

I can't explain what exactly it is about this that makes me hate him, but I know I don't like it.

Lemme set this up.

I can barely read a map. Let's get that out there right away. I mean, really. I think compasses are witch craft, I don't understand basic direction or coordinates and, swear to Zach Morris, just a few hours ago I incorrectly identified north vs south bound traffic on Google Maps. That's my life. Whatever. Somehow I do just fine and I always cushion my drive time with a few "whoopsie daisy" minutes.  My life.

Here's why I hate him.
I found this is his car:

First instinct: He was trying to draw a portrait of someone or something with his eyes closed like we've all done a time or two. Or 152 in LA/SS in 7th grade.

Second instinct: Lucy had drawn him a picture. In which case, it's amazing and beautiful and should be put in a museum.


This is Chuck's hand drawn map to a hiking spot.
See, there's no road signs, just turn offs and seriously? His map reading skills are so far advanced from mine that he thinks it actually makes sense to just draw his own map.And then he has the audacity to use it.

I just hate when he does smart crap like this.
Like, again, I can't tell northbound on a map, but he can read, make, and use one successfully, no road signs necessary.

Actually, I think it's his compass on the bottom that I find most offensive.
Really, really offensive.

i didn't get to ride a pony today.

Well, well, well, looks who's blogging? Maybe someone else should take this thing over since apparently I am not doing a very good job of it any more. If I was giving myself a report card for this blog, I'd probably comment on "focus issues" and "lack of effort".
Fall resolution: drink more apple cider/blog more. Keepin' it simple and real around here.

We went to the pumpkin patch today. Obviously. It's part of the October bi-laws. Yeah, it's a little early - we're more last minute pumpkin getters - but a) the month is super busy b) Lucy was super ready.

As in sprinting to the barn yelling "I gun' get me a pumpkin."
Well ok.
ps by the end of the day PK have bought us $50 in pumpkins. We're usually grocery store pumpkin-buyers where pumpkins are what? 17-cents a pound or $3.99 each? I didn't realize pumpkin patch pumpkins were basically off the runway couture. Lesson learned.

But even with all her pumpkin talk. "I want this" "I want that" when we actually got out to the pumpkin purgatory, someone was only interested in gourds, naturally referred to as "corn". Which is a big improvement over last year when the pumpkins were big "apples". Baby steps.

Super glad to know we trekked through the mud when we could have bought her a summer squash from the produce section and she'd have been just as happy. Second lesson learned.

ALSO, big disappointment. Lucy got to ride a pony at the Pumpkin Patch and they said I was too big. I asked and I was age-discriminated against. Calling the ACLU tomorrow. This is the most important part of the post, hence, the entire post is titled in reference to it and not in reference to the lovely family outing. Please. FYI they cost $125 to rent two ponies or horses for an hour. How to you spell "Susie's 29th Birthday party"? I spell it P-O-N-Y. Holla.

Oh, regarding the hat. Yeah, so I may have watched a few too many reruns of  The Rachel Zoe project on Saturday and that's what will happen. Watch responsibly.
Shelley did not watch responsibly either. For the record, we didn't plan to both wear hats but we did both wear them as a direct result of Rachel Zoe overdose. So major. We love a good knit moment.

How killer is that hoodie that I got Lucy? How creepy is that picture?


Super excited happy face. Mouth = size of pumpkin. I think a pumpkin is like finding a husband, or maybe more so a wedding dress. You just know. It's an emotional moment for me every year.

Chuck said this was the Sir Mix Alot pumpkin.
"36-24-36 - only if she's 5'3"

Lucy's little pumpkin. "It's small like me."

Swinging take one.

Swinging take two and there goes the boot. Whoopsee daisies.

Related Posts with Thumbnails