Today: Top Five Clumsiest Days of All Time. Seriously, I think more ground was covered by my tripping over it than by my walking on it.
Well, I think this one is pretty clear, but perhaps it doesn't get across just how klutzy a day I was having. It all started when I dribbled half of my coffee down my shirt, continued as I tripped my way through the shoe store, was worsened by the continued dropping of any and every item I attempted to grasp in my fingers, and culminated with my nearly falling out of the pedicure chair not once but twice.
I told Drew about my trials in great detail as we drove to Richmond Raceway-which now that I think about it, I'm not sure letting me loose among blow torches and power tools was the wisest idea. Still, the point here is that the man was well aware of my balance difficulties. So why in the name of all that is sane would he climb down from the pit box and then continue on his merry way without so much as a backward glance to see if I needed help getting down? Seriously, does this ladder-like thing look like something I should be trying to go down, face-forward, wearing heels without help on even my most graceful day??
No. Luckily for me, one of the Braun Racing guys stepped up and offered his hand like a true gentlemen should. I hope Andy took notes.
Next up, Saturday morning:
I'm up. However, chipper is a bit much to ask for with only 5 hours sleep to go on.
I'd already made plans to go yard sale hopping with the girls on Saturday before Drew sprung the whole drive 3 hours to Richmond, watch a race, and drive 2.5 hours back idea on me. Needless to say, when I pried my eyes open at 6:15, there was no danger of me being mistaken for the poster child of morning people. I use my exhaustion as an explanation for the continuation of my clumsiness. I think Teresa probably has bruises on the backs of her heels from the 1,001 times I stepped on them. And she never once kicked my shins in retaliation. I wouldn't have blamed her, I totally deserved it.
Getting up that early was worth it though. I found lots of treasures with this one being the find of the century:
I'm sure it was quite a sight to watch me and a very pregnant Teresa try to fandango the thing into her car. Amaya loves it even though I'm not so sure she really needed any more encouragement along the lines of her thinking that she's a princess.
The next tweet came shortly after I returned home on Saturday:
Brian must know that his actions are not without consequence. I trust, then, that he is prepared for war?
I left my car at Teresa's so she could drive cause, well, you know I suck at driving. When we returned I found my car in this state:
And this was even before he'd heard how I was threatening to buy a WVU onesie for their new baby. Of course, he has loudly proclaimed his innocence going so far as to tell me that I will find his fingerprints nowhere on the vehicle. Like that proves anything. He probably used Allie's hand to deface my lovely car. All I can say is that you better watch your back, Brian. I see some gold and blue in your future son.
Mellon's Month Day 1 saw the pinching of baby cheeks, breakfast with the Gs of GNO, & an M&M Sonic Blast. 30 more just like it please.
This one is easy. May is Mellon's Month because my birthday is the 31st. I think that one day is simply not enough time to fully indulge me, so I've proclaimed the entire 31 days to be mine. The first day was a great way to start the celebration as what could be happier than breakfast with the Girls of Girls' Night Out, (G's of GNO. Get it??) baby cheeks and M&M Sonic Blasts?
The next tweet came Sunday evening:
In point of fact, there is no such thing as too much hot water when you have puke dripping from your hair down your back.
Adam had come over to visit with Baby Noah. (more baby cheeks!) When he was leaving Andy, Amaya and I went outside to ooh and ahh over his new car. Chase had been coloring at the kitchen table, and I didn't even think about telling him we were going outside.
Well, when we came inside, the little man was having a breakdown upstairs screaming: "Mama, where are you??". Poor little guy was practically hyperventilating. He has a very sensitive gag reflex, so all of that heavy breathing and gulping ended up making him hurl. Lucky me, I happened to be holding him at the time. So, my hair, my shoulder and my back were covered in puke. As you can imagine, I headed straight to the shower as soon as the kid had been calmed down. Trust me: there is no such thing as too much hot water when you're covered in regurgitated food.
And that brings us to today's entry:
I'd like to call in my understudy to play the role of Laura today.
Cause dude, I'm wiped. But wouldn't you know that flighty understudy was nowhere to be found when I needed her. She's so fired.
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