Time Flies When You're Soaking Wet

My Lovely Husband will be 32 tomorrow, and he’s going into it kicking and screaming. I hadn’t realized it was such an issue for him until he confessed that he really thought he was turning 31.
2005-1973=32, Baby.
I may be 6 months older, but he can’t make the difference even larger just by wishing it. I told him that he can feel as young as he wants (I myself often feel about 12).

Darling Daughter has been stuck in high-glam mode for a couple of days now, so the dress-up box and make-up bag have taken up semi-permanent residence in the living room. Yesterday she was a fairy, complete with feather-bedecked wings, magic wand, and high heels. She discovered that the heels can poke holes in cardboard, so part of the evening was spent perforating the flaps I had cut off a box. Later, though, she declared that even fairies like to be comfortable, and she changed her heels (still with the wings) for sock and tennies. That’s my girl!

I was also supposed to be a fairy, but I was in turbo-cleaning mode; I allowed myself to be dolled up a bit with make-up and a choker made of a shoelace and an enormous, blue silk carnation. I think it was just the right touch to go with my Muppet t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.

First, D.D. wanted to have a fairy ball, but as it was just the two of us (L.H. was out), that was a bust. Then it was time for fairy school. I had my wand revoked for not attending class and for not watching Dave the Barbarian. D.D. is a harsh teacher, people.

Later that evening, she changed into what she thought looked like a belly-dancing costume, complete with veil. She gets this really serious look on her face when she’s dancing; it’s almost comical, but you can tell she’s totally earnest.

This morning she wore one of her tutus plus a metric ton of make-up, including a purple stripe under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. So she could be an Indian ballerina, don’t you know. She opted to ditch the make-up and tutu but keep the bun to go into town, of which I heartily approved to myself, although I told her that whatever she wanted was fine. She obviously thought she looked great (and we repeatedly told her she looked great; sue me), but no one would mistake her for a mini-Britney Spears, so I figured, what the hell. But it turns out that she’s more modest in public than at home, so she wanted the make-up off before going out.

The weather today is just fabulous—sunny but mild and only occasionally overcast. I don’t think it’s gotten over 80. Mmmm... D.D. and I went to the playground to enjoy the good weather. She ran about for 10 minutes or so, then decided to read and cool off. She had a book handily tucked into her large, black, vinyl purse, which I had to tote for her starting when we got off the bus. I’m sure it’s the perfect accessory for my Harry Potter t-shirt and jeans. She managed to read about 30 pages and finish it while we sat there.

After writing the above, Mother Nature ran up behind me with a large “Kick Me” sign. D.D. and I went into a shop, and while I was buying her a long-sleeved Barbie shirt and some new socks, it started to rain. Buckets. Neither of us had a jacket or an umbrella, but at least we had the new shirt to pull over D.D.’s sundress. So instead of getting an ice cream while we were out, we got hot chocolate.

Last year, D.D. swore that the icky Tales from the Cryptkeeper cartoon series [I know...what were we thinking?!] was not scary and that she liked it. We cut her off when the episodes started repeating, and then it went off the air. We foolishly thought we were safe. It recently came back on, but now, as soon as the intro starts, D.D. yells, “Turn it off! Turn it off! Turn it off!” and puts her hands over her ears. She has decided that the music creeps her out, and if we don’t turn it off quickly, it gets stuck in her head. I can relate to that. [B-O-M-B-Y!] When we got in the car the other day, some “heavy” rock song was playing on the radio, and D.D. informed me that it was her and her dad’s favorite song; it was also the only song that could banish the TftC theme song. I think she just hasn’t given BOMBY a chance.