Monday, August 11, 2008

Girls' Night Out

Usually every two weeks or so my eyes start to cross, my temper gets short(er), and my sanity dribbles through my fingers like cream of wheat on a fork. (Poetic, huh? I've got a way with words, what can I say?) These unmistakable symptoms are from Early Onset Insanity caused by prolonged exposure to toddlers. The only known cure is difficult to get and expensive; it's (drum roll, please) - - - -

Girls' Night Out.

First, this retired mommy headed to her favorite coffee shop to indulge in a jug-sized coconut latte and a Mediterranean panini. (As for the "retired" part, I'm just pretending I'm Brett Favre. I'm retiring and then I'll be back before the next season, i.e. day, starts). I seriously debated buying the entire case of scones, but I figured my thighs didn't need any more padding.

Can you tell I was excited to be alone in the car?

Then, I headed to my friend Esther's house where we met to (supposedly) watch the Olympics. Hah. We were talking and laughing too loudly to understand what was going on. Esther's a very good mommy. How do I know this?

Her daughter was already attracted to knitting. That's Flip-floppin' Momma working on a sock. (Now that I think of it, every time I see the woman knitting, she's knitting a sock. Also, the sock is always only about an inch long. Then, a week later, she pulls out this yard long sock and says, "see what I knitted!". I am starting to have suspicions of little sock knitting gnomes she keeps hidden in her cupboards . . .).

This is my friend Nikki, who is making a bouquet of roses for the Wiggles concert. She says it's so that her son can give it to one of the Wiggles, but I know the truth . . . She's really a Wiggles groupie!

The last woman of our bunch was Liz. Liz disgusts me, because she says, "oh, you're so talented, you can knit! I wish I were talented!" and then sits down and draws amazing portraits as if it's dot-to-dot. She showed me drawings of horses she had done that were simply beautiful. My drawings of a horse would look more like a sad genetically unfortunate dog. Huh. Too bad she's not talented. (I'm employing sarcasm here, people. I really like Liz a lot. She's cool.)

Unfortunately for me, Liz probably won't like me anymore. Especially since I'm going to publicize this video of her laughing.

(By the way, I DARE you not to crack a smile when watching this.)