Implosion

A few weeks ago we found out that this building was scheduled to be imploded. We wound up going downtown to watch it. It was so hot, but we really didn't care. It was so worth it when we got to see it blow.

Another Wordless

Some Days are Good Mom Days

Being a mom is hard and most of the time it is thankless & I feel like a failure. Then there are days like yesterday.
#1 needed to be picked up from tutoring, which he went to on his own volition *hooray boy!*, at 4:00. I arrived a bit early so decided to find some of #2’s teachers to check up on the little bugger say hi. While walking along the 2nd floor I spotted #1 at a table with some friends. When he saw me a look of astonishment came over his face and the conversation went something like this:
What are YOU doing here?
Picking you up. What are you doing OUTSIDE?
Tutoring is over. I thought Papa was picking me up.
You thought wrong. Be with you in a minute.
I went in to talk to #2’s art teacher. Though the boy is doing well, he still doesn’t think that all homework applies to him. When I got back to the car #1 told me that my “cool mom legacy” continues. Apparently his friends were amazed by our conversation. I replied that I didn’t even speak to them or do anything cool. I guess their conversations with their maternal units are more stuffy formal. I learned that all people don’t talk to their kids as if they were, well, people. That just made my day.

Wordless Wednesday

I've seen this Wordless Wednesday thing on many blogs of late & have decided to be a shameless copycat. While hiking last week I realized, while looking back on the trail & all the hikers, that we looked like a bunch of ants. Unfortunately the picture didn't come out at all like what my eyes saw...so I played with it.

So much for wordless, eh?

The Intoxication of Bra Shopping

Since I entered this little piece to a contest, DM is referred to as Joseph.

I woke up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning with a Mimosa under my nose. “Drink this, we’re going bra shopping.”
Bra shopping is no fun. Bra shopping when you are a 36 DDD is as entertaining as cleaning a public restroom with a toothbrush. After seventeen years of marriage, my husband Joseph has finally realized that the only way for me to go bra shopping is if I’m nicely potted.
“Drink up. There’s a door buster.”
A half hour later, I’m on the hunt, stumbling off to find my quarry. I was confident! I was empowered! I was sloshed. The bras in my cup size are generally located on the lowest racks since the weight of these babies apparently makes us hunch over anyway. I scooped up a half dozen while doing my Quasimodo, blearily apologizing to every rack I toppled on my way to the dressing room.
In that confined space, I realized that the temperature was ten degrees warmer than the rest of the store. Uncomfortable and sweating and I hadn’t tried anything on yet! After squeezing, shimmying, twisting and struggling into those contraptions, I felt like I’d been in a sauna. I tried out a sports bra and felt like I was all set for a mammogram. Removing it took five minutes and had me spinning like a break-dancer and bumping into the door causing the attendant to see if I needed help.
“Sssaalrite!” I replied as the bra finally broke free with a THWAP. She never came back.
My cell phone chirped and I dug it out of my pocket to discover Joseph had sent me pictures of several mannequins wearing bras that I couldn’t have worn after my first month of puberty. With a giggle, I fought my way into a pushup model that made me look like I was auditioning for a part in an opera, held out my phone, snapped a shot and sent it to him.
I immediately had the sort of second thoughts that freeze heart, soul and brain into a single icy column. What had I just done? Had I even sent it to the right number?
Choosing two bras more or less at random, I burst out of the stall, shoved them at Joseph and stumbled away without a look back. I’d lost five pounds of water weight along with untold brain cells. I lay on the wall outside the store. The clouds were so pretty, birds singing so cheerfully that I was thinking that maybe bra shopping wasn’t so bad after all. Then I fell off the wall…into the bushes…
Joseph appeared over me, cell phone in hand, and called me a silly drunk.