I haven’t checked with my good friend Meigs to see if her real Christmas tree has remained upright this year, but mine is still the right size and shape for the space in my house. And, it’s still standing proudly and beautifully…with no mess to clean up when I get home.
Take that, real tree snobs.
Perhaps I’m just lazy, but self check-outs do not appeal to me. Every time I decide to use one, it ends up taking much longer than if I had just waited in the line for the check-out counter with cashier. The computer always asks me a million questions (Do you have a bonus card? Do you have any coupons? Did you remove all items from underneath your cart?, etc), repeatedly tells me to “place the item in the bag” (even when I already did), and inevitably malfunctions and needs human assistance from the person who stands nearby and monitors the self check lines.
For something that’s supposed to make our lives easier, it certainly fails me every time. I’m breaking up with the self check-out machine.
I had to get a rental car yesterday, thanks to that hit and run incident back in November (the month we will not speak of again until next year). One of the gentlemen working there looked like someone I knew, but I couldn’t place where I knew him from. After giving each other that, “You look familiar to me” look a few times, we discovered that we did in fact know each other. We went to church camp together back in middle school.
In discussing our church camp experience with the other folks at Enterprise, we concluded that our church camp…well, it wasn’t just about Jesus. Our stories didn’t involve religious experiences at all. They involved counselor hook-ups and sneaking out of cabins to see our crushes. I mean, how totally inappropriate is that? He even confessed to shedding fake tears during the final night singing portion so that he would seem sensitive to his then girlfriend.
There will be no church camp for my hypothetical children. They are just gonna have to praise the Lord with me watching.
Answer: When you clean up their vom.
Ben had his wisdom teeth removed last Friday, and yours truly played the role of nurse for the weekend. (That might have conjured up a sexy image for some of you, but let me assure you that it was anything but.)
After cleaning up projectile vomit (he had a bad reaction to the sedation), I decided that you know you love someone when you clean up their bodily fluids without anger or disgust. And, since I’m not a mom, I can only remember doing this one other time. It involved my best friend’s 21st birthday party, 21 shots…and Japanese food. She had an exam the next day, so I just put her in bed and wiped down the floor. And walls. And toilet. And sink.
On Thanksgiving, per usual, my dad went to my mom’s house to eat lunch. And, per usual, he was wearing something hideous.
Over the years, I have lived through many a horrendous outfit worn by my father. The high-water jeans, the lack of socks, the ties that I’m certain he found in a dumpster – I could go on and on. One time, when I was in high school, I drove up with a group of friends to find my dad wearing a shirt that read, “Cheerleaders are Athletes.” Being MY t-shirt, you can imagine how tight it was on a grown man.
So, it’s usually expected that my dad will have on something embarrassing. (In cases where it truly matters, like weddings and the like, I hand pick an outfit and threaten his life if he changes the plan.) But, when that man walked up wearing two different shades of denim, I almost busted out laughing. Denim shirts really weren’t acceptable when they were “acceptable” with a pair of khaki pants back in the 90’s. Yet, there he was: Denim on top, denim on bottom. Yowza.
Just when you think you’re immune to his bad style, he shows you that it can always get worse. Bless his heart.
They (whoever “they” are) always say that one wants what one can’t have. It’s true, isn’t it? For me, this is absolutely the case when it comes to my hair.
I have this God-given curly hair that, at times, rivals any 1980’s hair band member’s locks. I wear it curly quite often during the work week (when my give a damn is busted), but I blow it out straight on the weekends (and important work days).
I remember being in high school and desperately wanting to wear my hair straight. At the time, all I had to “straighten” my hair after the blow drying process was a curling iron that I would run down my hair to get the curl out. As you can imagine, it didn’t work that well at all. A few times, I had a girlfriend iron it, but again, that didn’t work quite as well as I had hoped.
Enter my first flat iron circa 1999. This little invention has changed my life, so today, I speak for all the naturally curly ladies out there when I say that I am oh-so-thankful for my flat iron. For giving me what I always wanted – but couldn’t have.
Having a few days off for Thanksgiving was a much needed break in the daily grind. I loved the good mood everyone was in last Wednesday…even the postal workers I saw had smiles on their faces. (Before you send me hate mail, my stepdad is one of them. I love me some USPS workers, ok?)
Being back to “business as usual” today makes me even more thankful for the time I had off work.
I’m thankful for a family who loves and supports me every day. This Thanksgiving, I’m especially thankful for a new addition to our family – my niece, Haley. (Sure, she’s stolen my former closet, but at least she isn’t old enough to hog the pumpkin pie.)
Many of us will celebrate Thanksgiving without a member (or members) of our family. Some are off serving our country abroad, some live so far away that traveling isn’t possible, some are not on good terms, and some of our family members are no longer with us. My hope is that whatever your situation is, you can be thankful for your family. If they are in the military, I hope that you are thankful for their bravery and contribution. If they live far away, I hope that you are thankful for a phone call (or Skype date!) and that they are happy/healthy. If you are not on good terms, I hope that you are thankful for the memories when you were. If they have passed away, I hope that you are thankful for the life they lived – and that God gave you the gift of knowing and loving them.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all.
Every day, I drive past under an overpass that is the “home” to people who have no other place to go.
Today, I’m thankful for all of the things I so often take for granted, including basic necessities like a place to eat, sleep, stay warm and out of harm’s way. We are all much more blessed than we realize.
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