date night at the museum

Wear something with sparkles, he asks. So I did; because he asked me and it’s date night.

Anything for him because it is date night!

Date Night at the Museum!

It was a perfect date night too. We held hands. Shared pretzels and cheese because popcorn is a no with braces. There was much laughter and whispered conversation about ancient Egyptian burial practice, helping to scatter his great grandmother’s ashes at a place she loved, Christianity, Judaism, Hanukkah, Jesus and Pompeii. We also talked about the fact that this was Robin Williams‘ last onscreen feature film performance and I mentioned that it was also Mickey Rooney’s too. Yes, he asked, Who? I’ll try to rectify that. The best part, besides the sweet good night kiss? My date insisted that we sit through and watch the credits because I love to do that. A first because he usually wants to leave as soon as the story fades to black and in the past has been quite vocal about being forced to sit as the closing credits roll.

It would seem that my date is growing up.

From my date and me, two thumbs up. It’s a fun finale to the Night At The Museum series with a lot of laughs, a little bit of history and definitely some poignant moments.

As for our date night, I can’t wait for the next time. Watching the previews before the movie, we have a list prepared.

still

Most of the presents are wrapped and stacked up under the tree. My darling husband has finally hung the lights outside which is good because no one else on our street has. Slowly, but surely, The Big Top is getting Christmas-ier and Christmas-ier and it is good. It is very good.

Daniel comes to me the other day and says, “So I wrote a letter to Santa. I hope that it’s okay.

First thought: He still believes!

Second thought: Crap! None of these things were on any wish list that he gave me.

Third thought: Crap! I’m already done shopping for him!

Fourth thought: Aw! The first thing he wants to to know is how is Mrs. Claus and if Santa is treating her right. That’s my boy!

Fifth thought: He STILL believes!!

I ignored the spelling error in the letter because he asked about Mrs. Claus and he still believes.

So you want to give this letter to Santa?

Yes. Do you think he’ll like it?

I am absolutely certain that Santa will love it…so will Mrs. Claus.

He blushes.

So much for the letter he received last year, with a nod to Aimee for the great idea. That letter STILL sits on his bedside table and, yes, he re-reads it often.

He believes.

Still.

You know Mom, a lot of my friends at school don’t believe Santa is real.

Yeah?

Yeah. I feel sad for them.

Because they don’t receive gifts anymore?

No. They will always get presents. I’m just sad for them. The magic is gone.

And so he believes. Still.

He is turning thirteen in less than one month…let that sink in those of you following this adventure that I have shared since 2004. He’s turning thirteen…next month.

I’m kind of glad that he believes…still.

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]