Thursday’s Trivial

I just HAD to share the following amazing random thoughts:

How is it that when you have three children, all born of the same wonderful parents, they all are so different?

In looks…

…The Boy is big and bulky, sherry brown eyes, dark thick straight hair (dark like his dad, thick NOT like his dad like his mom).

…My Girl with dark blonde hair, pretty straight with a hint of “sure I’ll hold a curl if she wasn’t killing me with the striaghtner every morning”,green, green eyes and as slim as a well-proportioned runway model.

…The Little Boy with medium brown hair (closer to my natural color) with tons of curls and dark brown eyes. He is freakishlytall and a solid rock of muscle with a very defined set of six pack abs.

In personality…

…The Little Boy walked to school this morning. In the rain. It’s only three blocks, but I believe there are two reasons he insists on walking to school in the rain, sleet and snow:

1) it’s cool
2) it makes his hair REALLY curly.

And the 5th grade girls LOVE that.

I have curly hair. The rain does not make my hair curlier. It makes my hair look like this:



The Boy (big and bulky) HATES rain. Does not want to be out in it and will carry on quite a bit about it. He always begged me to drive him to school when it rained.

As previously noted above, My Girl curses me each day for passing on the ‘curly/full body’ hair gene that was toned down, but not obliviated by her father’s straight/no body hair gene. She works that hair straightner like nothin’ I’ve ever seen. I think we’re on hair straightening device number twentyfive. She now hates the rain, but when younger, could care less about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Man and I were at dinner last night discussing plans for the summer. Our server was a big old burly guy with a really deep voice. He positively towered over our table. He wasn’t the best server we’ve had at this, our fave restaurant. But I completely forgot that after this conversation at the end of dinner:

Burly Server Guy: Dessert?
The Man: That’s why we came here. One strawberry shortcake with two forks, please.
BSG: Coffee?
Me: I would like coffee. Could you make that half caffinated half non-caffeinated, please? With cream?
BSG: You mean, half-caff?
Me: I didn’t realize you spoke Starbucksese.
BSG: I love Starbucks. I was never a coffee drinker until recently and now I just can’t get enough of it.
Me: I know exactly what you mean! I drink coffee all day long.
BSG: Yup. Once I tasted that Hazelnut latte stuff, I just can’t stop.

There was just something so wrong about that…BSG should be drinking coffee. black. no cream. no sugar. NOT a Hazelnut Latte. Sheesh.

~~~~~~~~~~
I made from scratchslice-n-bake sugar cookies for Little Boy’s end of school party tomorrow. The initials of his school are “OH”. I thought I was sooooo very clever to put OH on a bunch of the cookies. Until I picked up the container and the cookies were turned around and they read…HO. And instantly, my poor worried mind imagined all of the teachers and home room moms reading them. Sigh.

Sigh. I sent them in anyway.

There would have been a lot more HO cookies, but Sam took care of that, as you can tell by her expression, immediately following my discovery that half the cookies were missing.

One of my BFF, Lori, turned 40 yesterday. I vaguely remember turning 40. Six and one-half years ago. My o my where DOES the time go? Little Boy was 5 then. The Man threw me a party. I was too stressed about it going smoothly to enjoy it. Sadly. But for my 50th surprise birthday party that he will be throwing for me…I fully intend to enjoy, enjoy, enjoy and not worry about it at all!

Speaking of worry, this post really hits it on the head with the worry issue.

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2 Comments

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  1. I’m not sure what your friend looks like, but the words are right under the pic of the dog. Your waiter was a riot!I laughed out loud about the cookies, that is sooo something I would do!

    Like

  2. Hey Susan, I responded to you on my blog, thought I’d come here and tell you too.Thanks for praying for Taylor’s family. At the funeral her Mom had her shaky hands raised high while they played “Praise You in the Storm”, I bawled my eyes out, it was beautiful.

    Like

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