Ali Wins Best Fuzzball For A Reason

Technically, nothing with more than two legs is supposed to be on the furniture.

Which is why Ali is the only fuzzy family member I like. At least she stays off of my couch.

I Wish I Could Explain

Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and I just . . . I . . . I can't . . . I just don't even know.

At first glance, I think that Alexis has decided to recreate Britney Spears' Vegas wedding.

But then I remember that she was born too late to even know that Britney had a Vegas wedding. So, it's just Ken on his wedding night, hanging out with the bride and two . . . uh . . . floozies?

One of them is being evicted from the party, obviously because her bright blue and pink animal print skirt just isn't cool enough.

But the other one, the one who has her dress pushed up too far and who probably isn't wearing any underwear, she seems to be in charge of the whole shebang, don't you think?

She's telling the bride, "Shut your whore face." Obviously. But really what she SHOULD be saying is, "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR PANTS, KEN?"

These are the sorts of things that make me fear the mind of the five-year old.

I'm Smarter Than I Was A Year Ago. Maybe.

I know about that thing you did. Yeah, THAT thing. Keep that in mind when you're considering mocking me for what I'm about to admit. I know about that thing.

While I was in Chicago, I intentionally went to the American Girl store.

I KNOW.

(Remember, I know about that thing.)

When I realized I was going to have only a few hours to spend downtown, I knew I needed to decide on just one mission to carry out. I always take something back for Alexis when I go out of town, so I decided that one mission would be to pick up something for her at the American Girl store.

Let's back up for a second, shall we? Alexis swore on Dora's life that the only thing she wanted for Christmas was an American Girl doll. Rebecca to be exact. She told Santa and her grandma and the neighbor and her imaginary friend and pretty much everyone who has ears. Rebecca. That's it.

Since it's against my religion to spend $100 on a doll, Santa did the deed. He agonized and agonized over the decision, but the fact that it was the *only* thing the kid wanted made it hard to figure out an alternate plan. Santa might have thrown up as he wrapped that gift, but he did it.

And the kid barely batted an eyelash. She didn't care about the American Girl doll.

So why subject myself to the store? Hold on. I'll get to that.

I'm kind of an idiot when it comes to public transportation, but I somehow managed to stumble my way to within a mile or so of the American Girl store after an hour-long train ride. After walking and walking and finally finding the entrance to the store, I had a bit of an emergency situation going on. I really needed to use the restroom. Like, REALLY.

So I went through the door, nearly burst into flames as I was surrounded by so much evil, and started trying to find the restrooms. And tried. And tried. And tried. The store is two stories tall about the size of Kohl's. No joke. It's HUGE, especially considering all they sell is dolls and doll clothes. Well, they sell that stuff and they have a hair salon for humans, a hair salon for dolls, a portrait studio, a restaurant, and OMG IS THE PLACE RIDICULOUS. Who are these people who keep stores like that in business?

I trudged through, all the while doing an awkward little dance, until I finally found the restrooms. They were, of course, all the way upstairs and all the way at the back of the store, meaning I had to walk past every damn thing on my way there. A funny thing happened as I walked past every damn thing, by the way. What seemed insane initially started to seem . . . less insane.

$24 for an outfit for a doll? A bargain compared to the fancy $38 one upstairs!

The fact that I actually thought those words is proof that they pump narcotics into the air in that store. It's like insanity juice or something.

So I wandered around for entirely too long until I found the exact right thing to take back for Alexis.

Fast forward a day. The big reveal took place in our family room.

 

Alexis knew I had been to the store. I had told her on the phone, leading her to squeal like a 13-year old in the presence of Justin Bieber. She was SO excited.

About a $7 book. A BOOK, PEOPLE. That's what she got. That's what she wanted. That's what made her deliriously happy.

Santa best take notes. I have this kid figured out.