potential dress code violations

Sitting in Hollie’s chair:

I know. I’m sorry. It’s absolutely frightening how I look without makeup. Still I don’t care because…

I’m getting PAMPERED!!! As I should be. As I deserve to be.

And then Hollie says to me, “I just LOVE how you let me do whatever to your hair.

I nod because it’s true. And then I catch a glimpse of…

OMG! Purple!! Purple like…

Sure it’s the IT color right now from fuschias to lavendars to deep purples to silver tones. It’s hot. Of course Hollie is fast becoming the go to person to get these luscious, colorful locks here in the Central Valley. But…dress codes…”natural hair color”…Absolutely I am a woman of a certain age who could wear the blueish-purplish-silvery hair and it would be totally legit…but, I don’t know.

“MOM! Stop peeking!!!”

I confess that now I am nervous but I keep repeating to myself how much she loves that I trust her…over and over until…

Signature copper with deep violet-red roots painted on as if baby I was born this way.

Naturally!

I may save tiny human beings but my girl makes me beautiful and that, based on the presented photographic evidence is truly miraculous.

 

 

chief cookie advisor

Fallon, who are you talking to?

Obama.

You’re talking to President Obama?

Uh-huh.

What are you talking to Mr. Obama about?

Cookies.

Cookies?

Yes, cookies. I need to talk to Obama now. K?

and so she returns to her very important phone conversation…with Obama…about cookies because she is Fallon Elizabeth, Chief Cookie Advisor to President Obama.

life as the plumber’s wife

A mid-day text message conversation between a plumber and his adoring wife:

So the faucet in the kitchen sink has been leaky the past couple of days and it is getting worse. Zelda likes it.

But it has literally filled up a cup within the last half hour just dripping.

Do you know a good plumber?

No.

Try Angie’s List.

:::silence:::

I’ll correct the aforementioned defect when I get home.

Are you a good plumber?

Well, I’m cheap.

That’s what she said!

[/rimshot]

 

 

 

 

“I like your show…can you send me some underwear?”

Overheard under The Big Top:

Daniel- I want to write a letter to Ellen.

Mom- Okay

Daniel- Can I give her a picture of me too; so that she’ll know it’s from me?

Mom- (with a little sarcasm) Do you want to autograph it too?

Daniel- YEAH! AWESOME!

This is what happens when your kid realizes he is like Internet famous. No, not viral or like a celebrity, but he knows he has fans thanks to mom’s blogging and the fact that he is pretty awesome. Does he imagine that Ellen reads Adventures in Juggling? I’m not going to ask.

So he sits down and autographs a picture of himself signing it: To Ellen, Love Daniel xoxo. And then he begins his letter telling her that he likes her…he likes her a lot. He loves her show. She is so so funny. She’s kind too. Oh, and he just loves her underwear….Can I have some of your underwear? he writes. Yes, he wrote that. He also offers that if they were to ever meet he would hug her because he loves her and because he is a pretty great hugger…a lot of people say that about me he adds.

Daniel- Can I ask her to give me a giant $10,000 gift card too?

Um…

We sure could use that like pretty much anyone else I know. Actually the IRS would LOVE it and definitely take it because that’s what they’re doing to us right now but…

Mom- No, son. You shouldn’t ask her for money. I think just telling her how much you like her is enough.

Daniel- I’m still asking her for underwear.

Mom- That’s fine, son.