Today in preschool: Curly Locks and London were sitting next to each other, quietly coloring. Curly Locks is occasionally a bit of a drama queen and is certain to inform everyone if the world is not going according to her plans. The peace was suddenly disrupted by Curly Locks wailing as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. I rushed over to see what tragedy had befallen her. She looked at me, devastation written on her face and said "London took my crayon!" Oh dear! The horror!
I tried to look very stern while asking London to return the crayon. London, who was quite indignant, informed me she never touched the crayon. At which point Curly Locks chimed in, still slightly pouty, and said "Well. Well, maybe she looked at it!"
And in the category of Only in Arkansas: My fellow Target shoppers this evening included a spiral permed, peroxide bleached hillbilly with incredibly dirty children and a minor '80s era movie star.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Under the category of Things I Never Thought I'd Do (a category which includes saying "No sword fighting in the house!" and explaining menstruation and not pestering your hormonal sister unless you want to die to a male child) comes signing model releases for my boy. Yes, he is adorable. Yes, his father takes wonderful, marketable photos. Yes, I enjoy the checks we receive from the sales of said photos. Even so, it's slightly bizarre to think of my boy as a "model". Just sayin'.