Fashion

On a whim I bought a mullet wig. It was on sale. (What would you do?) I tried it out on Curtis yesterday afternoon. He did NOT like it. For some reason, however, he refused to touch it. So he wandered around for a while, crying in desperation, as his mom snapped picture after picture of his adorable mulleted face. (I eventually had pity and took it off.)

(Notice how blurry the picture is? I seriously couldn't stop laughing!)

In other fashion news, someone please tell me why my daughter thinks these two colors create an "awesome" ensemble?

My Poor Sweet Husband

Last night Lindy and I finished the last chapter of Anne of Green Gables. As a follow up we watched the first half of the movie this afternoon.

As we reached the tearful scene where Anne and Diana are saying goodbye to each other, fated to never be "bosom friends" again, Ian plopped himself on the couch, rolled his eyes, and proceeded to complain about the dramatics of women.

Poor Ian. In a roomful of overly-dramatic females he is not about to gain a flood of support. After giving him my version of the "stink eye" I suddenly had a vision of the future...and it was at that moment I experienced profound sympathy for my dear, innocent husband. In 6 short years we will enter the teenage years...with two daughters.

He won't know what hit him.

Episode II

Before anyone accuses me of bad parenting...I'd like to point out that Lindy set it all up on her own. I just happened to arrive, camera in hand, for the grand finale.

She's a brave little girl.

Funny

Today I made a stop at The Dollar Store.

The guy in front of me in line holds an item up to the cashier and asks, "How much is this?" (And I assure you...he was completely serious.)

To which the cashier calmly responded, "One dollar."

I laughed the whole way out to my car.

What Curtis Has Been Up To

Remember when I was nervous about having a boy? Remember how I forgot about all that nervousness simply because he was just SO DARN CUTE?

Well...I do believe I recall now why I was apprehensive to begin with. Boys don't sit still. I mean it, they're always moving. Yeah, yeah, I know some of you already know this little bit of info all too well. I'm just saying that, at 18 months, Curtis has figured out how to keep his mother in a perpetual state of neurotic jumpiness. Caused by:

His newfound love of bugs (and other creeping things):

His independent need to self-serve from the kitchen cupboards:

His passion for bike-riding:

His habit of emptying each wipe individually from every container possible:

His compulsion for trying on others' shoes (a precursor to constant tripping):

And last, but not least, his erroneous belief that he is a Junior Spiderman:

I'd also like to mention that I don't have photographic evidence of him stranding himself on the bathroom counter between the wall and a sink-full of water, emptying all the dishes out of my kitchen cupboards, climbing the bookshelf, climbing into the fridge, jumping off the couch, jumping off the coffee table onto the couch, drawing on himself with a pen, diving in (and OUT) of the bathtub, OR peeing on the floor.

I do like to take pictures, but sometimes you just have to nip some things in the bud. Right?