When I published yesterday’s post I wasn’t sure if it was even going to post. First of all, my domain has expired and I have yet to figure out how to fix it. And secondly, my computer has a mind all its own, so I never know if it is going to pull through for me. Needless to say, it was a pleasant surprise to hear feedback from anyone at all.
But in case you missed yesterday’s post, I am no longer homeschooling.
Translation: I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands!
I recently decided to spend some of this free time shopping at the MALL! And not only that, but trying on clothes in the store’s dressing room! Why didn’t anyone ever tell me there were so many sales while children are in public school? It was almost too good to be true! I had loads of dresses and tops and jeans and enthusiasm! Plus I was alone! I had everything I needed for an enjoyably productive shopping trip. But alas, I had forgotten one mInOR detaihl.
The dressing room mirrors and lighting are ev-ihl.
They made my waist bigger, my thighs flabbier and my split ends even more pronounced.
Why didn’t my body look the same way it looked the last time I tried on clothes in the dressing room at the mall? Could it really be that 10 years have went by since the last time I had enough time to examine my body so closely?
I couldn’t understand it… I’m always running around. I run kids to practice. I run kids to school. I even run to the grocery store.
Running to the mall certainly didn’t do me any good. I ended up leaving with one measly pair of Levi’s jeggings. When I got home, I tried on my one purchase in the comfort of my dimly lit bedroom and was relieved to find that there, my rear view once again looked like that of the US Olympic gymnastic’s team.
But just in case there was any truth to the department store mirrors, I decided to take up biking for the next 30 minutes. I was a little rusty at first, weaving this way and that as I pumped my way up the steep incline of the gravel road, but soon I was able to straighten out and ride like I did in my youth. Then, just for fun, I went in circles, partly to see if I still could and mostly to give my husband something to ponder.
He’s like the giant on ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ when it comes to noticing tracks on the gravel road…
He can almost smell the new tracks before he sees them.
Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum.
For some reason this fairy tale reminds me of my grandfather which reminds me of a game he used to play with me and my brothers when we were young called ‘Hide and Whip the Kids’.
My brothers and I LOVED this game.
Basically, it is just like hide and seek, but instead of just tagging the kid in hiding, it was understood that if he found the kid in hiding, that kid would have to scream as though he was getting the beating of his life while my grandfather hit the bed or couch or chair with a belt. Typically my grandfather would be saying something like “Hold still!” as he was doing this, just to get the full effect. The other kids would then come out of hiding to see if their sibling was actually getting a beating or not. The answer was always not. Laughter then ensued and the game would start all over. I have no idea where he came up with this game, but it cracks me up that he would play this with us. It was both thrilling and horrifying at the same time. But in fact, whether we were playing the game or not, he never spanked us, never yelled at us and always encouraged humor and fun.
No ev-ihl mirrors.