Summer Aspirations


I'm basically in a panic because the daffodils just poked up yesterday, but somehow summer is coming to a close and WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING.


Apparently purposely not going to the beach for a week makes a mess of us around here. That's somehow become the thing that makes the summer stretch just enough to feel complete. If you ask either Alexis or Mila ... wait. DON'T YOU DARE ASK THEM. The word "beach" sends them both into a long whine-fest, so do us both a favor and spare me the drama. Just know that Mila especially is pissed that the beach wasn't a thing this year.

(Note to self: Chicago does not count as a "vacation." Don't bother arguing it.)

All of that is to say, HOLY SMOKES DID WE SUMMER THIS WEEKEND. Kennywood (Which, I have words about the state of Kennywood these days. I'll get to them eventually, just like Kennywood will eventually get around to noticing that there are people in their park. OR WILL THEY? AHEM.), the "beach" aka Raccoon Creek State Park, the playground, the pool, hiking, and so much more.

We crammed a lot in.

And yet ... when asked what her favorite part of the weekend was, Miss Mila, she of much truthiness, turned to me and said, "Remember when Alexis and me were fighting and you got mad? That was fun!"

Every day is a good day when you're Mila.

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Eyewitness Failure

I noticed a thing when I was in Thailand a few weeks ago: I suck at describing people.

Like, REALLY suck.

If you need someone to not notice what you're wearing, I'm your woman! I never notice what anyone is wearing ever, unless it stands out for some random reason. Like, if you wear a magnificent cat shirt, I'll notice that. But if you're dressed appropriately for the occasion? I don't know what you're wearing. FOR REAL. A most excellent example came from the photos of the event I was at in Thailand. Everybody was wearing their fancy navy or black suit ... except me. Multiple people commented that I was the only one wearing any color in the photos (an ankle-length red and navy dress with a long navy sweater - it was totally appropriate, just not a solid dark color).

I had no idea.

I never once looked around and realized I was the only one who didn't get the navy/black/we're-mourning-apparently memo. Which is just as well because WHATEVER, CLOTHING POLICE. Y'all go on with your enforcement of rules I don't understand. I'll be over here wearing whatever and completely not noticing you.

So, I don't have clothing to make my descriptions of people better. That's a whole blind spot. What I do have is hair color, hair texture (i.e. curly or straight), and eye color.

That's it. That's all I have.

Apparently, in all my years, I've never gained the ability to describe a person beyond their hair. When that's useless? SO AM I. There was a point in Thailand when someone asked me to identify who had said something and I was all, "The lady with the ... well ... stuff."

Everyone in Thailand has dark hair. Everyone in Thailand has straight hair. Everyone in Thailand has brown eyes. WHAT THE HECK ELSE IS THERE?

By the way, the same rule applies with caucasians. Alexis asked me which cheerleader did something and all I had was, "the blond one," which narrowed it down to ... 50% of the her cheer squad.

So basically what I'm saying is that I would make a terrible eyewitness. I can't describe anybody in any way that's even remotely useful. I mean, it's a good thing one of my kids is brunette and the other blond because I'd never be able to tell them apart otherwise.

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