Monday, January 06, 2014

In which I admit that I should pick out those window treatments for my duplex in Hell.

So, in the spirit of full-disclosure, here are some funny things from my life.

Vignettes, if you will.

About a month ago, I had ASKED Bucket, politely but firmly to move a cup from her little sister's reach.
When she neglected to follow directions, I was upset.
Upset enough to use the WHOLE treatment and THEN SOME.

I bellowed "[First name] [Middle name] DAMMIT [Last name]!!!!!"
Michael had me take a time-out.

(I almost mistyped that as a time-pout ... which isn't that far from the truth. Except, when I'm in time out, I usually end up reading or playing games on my phone or taking a bath.)

The other day, when my mom came to visit, we all went out to lunch. Then I took her to the local Blockbuster (which is closing next week) to score some good deals (I ended up buying six DVDs and a WiiU game for about $25).

The same cashier rung up my order as when Michael and I had been there on Wednesday evening.

When he came in, I pointed him as he entered the store for work to my mom.

Me: Mom, that guy there? He works here. He might be a manager.
Mom: Oh. I thought maybe he was one of Santa's little helpers.
Me: *seriously* Don't tell him that.

He rung up my order. And I joked that I really SHOULD pay attention to the directions on the keypad (for running my debit card) so I didn't waste his time. And he replied that the more time I took, the less he had to do. And I said that I'd the the best I could.

(So, yeah, I treated him like any other cashier.)

He handed me my bag of loot purchases. "Here you go, pretty lady."

And, well, I'll admit, I blushed.

When Mom was done being rung up and caught up to me, I told her, "Hey, my cashier called me 'pretty lady.' Yup, I've still got it."

Michael and the kids had been waiting for us in the car. As I climbed in, I told him, "Hey, you remember our cashier from the other day?"

"The dwarf?"

"That's the one. He called me 'pretty lady!'"

After Mom's visit, as we were getting ready for bed, I confessed that I felt like Snow White.
But with a much messier house.

So, yes, a dwarf called me "pretty lady."
You can send my admission papers for princessing school here.
I'll practice my warblings and princess-s hand movements.
I'm sure they'll put me on a princess diet to fit into more princess-y dresses ... unless I'm to be like Jacquline from "Ever After." You know "I'm only here for the food."

Because, unlike a lot of princess-y princesses, I really LIKE food.

But, still, I'm really tickled ... I mean, I wasn't even wearing any makeup.
So, it does help prove that beauty is more personality than skin-deep.

Which should be somewhat redeeming, right?

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