WARNING: This post oozes estrogen and contains a liberal usage of italics.
I am not going to bore you with all of the details, but suffice it to say that I have had a day. And when I say that I have had a day, I mean a day. Have you ever had one of those days that just starts of a bit off kilter, and you just know, know that it’s going to be a day? If you answered no, well then bless your heart, and I hope you never know what I mean. If you said yes, then you can relate. I spent the last night “syncronizing Swatches” with Hubby, logging dates into the our calendars for 3 kids in sports, one also taking music lessons, regular appointments, my commitments, and Hubby’s special evening programs for work. That was enough to make my head spin.
Then today school started for my two oldest boys. (My 3rd son starts tomorrow.) Everyone was so excited that they actually got themselves ready this morning, ate breakfast, and were running laps around the house by the time I got out of the shower. This likely won’t happen again until the last day of school, so I was relishing in their independence, and having time to actually cleanse myself and brush my teeth before carpool. I got dressed, and tried to dry my hair, only to discover that the hair dryer was dead. Okey-dokey. So I threw my hair up–which is one of the benefits of having long hair. The forecast called for wind with scattered rain, anyway.
I got the kids of to school pretty seamlessly. They were excited to see their friends. I was glad to chat with friends that I haven’t seen all summer. The traditional first day of school flag raising ceremony went well, and I’m feeling pretty good because:
1. I had time to take a shower and brush my teeth before dropping off the kids today.
2. I was able to catch up with friends.
3. I was so happy to see my little men so confident, and reminisced about how they have progressed over the years.
4. I had time to take a shower and brush my teeth before dropping off the kids today. Wait–did I already say that?
Then on the way to the grocery store, Hubby and I were talking on the phone, (hands-free,) trying to hash out our upcoming week(s) of divide and conquer. My head really started to spiral, and I was only 1/2 way through my chai latte. So I get to Meijer and do what any self-respecting woman would do. I turned right.
My Mom told me once that the only way to get out of Meijer alive was to never turn right. Food is on the left. Everything else that will inevitably suck-all-the-money-out-of-your-wallet, is on the right. Well, I had a wad of cash in my wallet, and I was feeling the need for a little retail therapy. Be scared of me. Besides, it doesn’t count if you impulse buy at the grocery store–it’s all “food,” right?
I bee-lined for health & beauty section to look for a new hair dryer. Before I could browse any of the displayed dryers, my ever-exuberant four year old had one in his hot little hands.
“We need this one Mom! It’s beautifully red!” And so it is. Racy Red. I tried to toss it in the cart, but little man had to hold it while we continued shopping. I decided that I could use some new nail polish. Back in high school, I used to change my fingernail color on a daily basis so as to match my outfit for the next day. Now, I think I might paint my fingernails twice a year: once for Christmas, and once for my birthday. However, I am really freakishly adamant about having my toenails painted at all times. Hubby likes it, too. I’m sorry if that is a bit of TMI.
Admittedly, this picture sucks. I wish the lighting wasn’t so bad on this sunless day, and that I was a better photographer, because this color rocked my world. Seriously. It’s a deep, sparkley, red named Racing Rubies. Racy. And to top it off, it dries in 50 seconds, which is great if you’re like me and don’t get more than 90 seconds to yourself during waking hours. But I couldn’t buy just one.
I wanted something a bit more avante garde. Because I am a rebel-housewife-with-four-boys. That and I was miffed that my chai latte was cold.
Well, hellllloooooooo!!! This is one is called Grape Times. I love it because it is purple. And because it reminded me to buy some wine. And because it made the theme song from that show in the 70’s “Good Times” pop into my head, and I’ve been singing it ever since.
This was my preschooler’s choice. It’s called Timely Turquoise. I bought it because my upcoming time management challenges sent me on this nail polish expedition. I also bought it because I used to wear blue nail polish in the 80’s. Then I remembered my Aunt Jill telling me, upon seeing my blue nail polish, that the secret to make-up was for it to be so natural that people wouldn’t know what it was about you that made you attractive. Great advice. I still wore the blue nail polish. And pearls with white Hanes t-shirts.
Remembering my fashion sense in the 80’s got me in touch with my inner 12 year old self. Then I felt old, so I threw this in the cart, too. Clear. Because I’m edgy and daring. Not really. Clear to go over these:
Nail doo-da’s. Sparkley, frilly, girly, nail doo-da’s. I’ve never worn nail art in my life, but I bought them anyway. It seemed like the right thing to do. My toes are going to look awesome.
Then my little ka-bob just had to have this purple mirror because he had “never had a mirror of his own–ever in his whole life.” And what four year old boy doesn’t need a purple mirror of his very own?
After checking out and loading my booty into my van, since I was already channeling my inner 12 year old, I sat and sent a text from my pink phone. As I am doing this, an older gentleman knocked on the window. Great. Witnesses. I rolled down the window, and resisted blowing a bubble with my gum. He smiled and said:
You know that your tabs are expired?
“They are?! For real?! Like, seriously?!”
Yeah. (Shakes head in disbelief and chuckles.) You should take care of that.
(Mind you, I renewed my license tabs more than 6 months ago, but the sticker is mysteriously MIA.)
OK, I’ll get right on that.
Right after I put sparkley heart doo-da’s on my new manicure. And get a new chai latte.
File this in the I-can’t-believe-I’m-posting-a-picture-of-my-toes category. Here’s a blurry phone picture of new turquoise pedicutre complete with butterfly doo-da’s. And yes, I can peel bananas with my toes.