Before it got chilly, Scout and I played outside. Her favorite game is called Baby Tries to Eat the Grass While Mommy Yells, “Get It Outta Your Mouth.”
It’s fun. No, really.
Then we discovered the soccer ball.
My initial reaction was Scout’s baby gibberish loosely translated to “You may take our lives/soccer ball, but you can never take our freedom!”
But maybe that was too hasty. Maybe she was really saying…
- Are you blind, ref?!?! That ball was out!
- Put me in coach! I’m ready to play…today!
- What the heck, Mommy! I can’t fit this soccer ball in my mouth!
What do you think Scout is saying? Or what do you think Ozzy Pups is thinking?
Because Kiefer and I are Halloween-obsessed, the day Scout was born (maybe the day after), he declared she would be Carlos for Halloween.
No. Just no.
After buying boy things for Boo and Radley for years, I refused to not have a cute girly outfit for her first Halloween.
So we compromised. She was Carlos just long enough to take one picture, and then she was magically transformed…into Snow White.
Please excuse the picture quality. Trying to get a baby to sit still and look at the camera is hard enough, let alone fix the lighting.
As you can see, Snow White was actually shorter than the dwarves. She also likes Snickers, not poisoned apples.
I’m declaring today the official Rex Manning Day. I can do that. I have that authority.
Now we just have to get the President to declare it a Federal holiday. Please sign the petition by commenting below.
For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about (::head shaking at you, not with you::)…educate yourselves! Watch Empire Records…since my blog is named after that movie. But if you don’t have that kind of time, at the very least, watch the Rex Manning video.
Please celebrate by saying or doing one or more of the following:
- The fat man walks alone.
- Glue quarters to the floor.
- The time to hesitate is through.
- Carry around a couch cushion.
- Leave a red bra on the table of a restaurant.
- What’s with today today?
Happy Rex Manning Day!
See what you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Is it possible that there are no coincidences?—Signs
I believe in signs.
I believe there’s a reason I always said, “There’s no way I’m going back to Kiefer…unless he proposes…with a ring…and has tickets to Vegas.” And then…that happened.
I believe there’s a reason Kiefer and I saw this sign in Washington, DC, on a date after he proposed.
Most signs aren’t this clear.
I believe there’s a reason that a week after I said “Yes,” we finally found a new house.
I believe there’s a reason that a couple months after Kiefer’s proposal we got pregnant…and got this cutie pie:
I like putting her in hats that are too big for her. It makes her head look smaller, which makes my nether regions feel better.
Everyone with me now: I believe I can fly…I believe I can touch the sky….
Sorry. My writing made me channel R. Kelly. If you don’t know the song, don’t tell me. It’ll make me feel old.
Do you see signs?
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Those toilets are real time savers though. If you go in with some shampoo, you can squeeze in a quick shower.”—correctionsandclarifications