With Dylan happily in camp (her early days of hiding under a table long forgotten), I decided to sign Summer up for a music class. You know, one of those 45 minute mini musical munchkin maestros classes or whatever the heck they’re called. Otherwise known as This-Money-Would-Be-Better-Spent-On-Coffee-And-Wine.
But in the pursuit of summer enrichment for my youngest daughter, I called to sign her up anyway and they instructed me to print out a form from their website and send it in with a check. And I was all like – a what?!
Where’s the Paypal button? Or if you want to do the retro thing, can’t you just take my credit card info over the phone? I seriously have to print a form AND write a check AND find a stamp AND an envelope AND mail it?! Do they want me to TEACH the class too?
Meanwhile, when I’m not being so obviously lazy, I might be totally crazy.
Because a friend recently gave me a small photo album from my bachelorette party. Yes, that bachelorette party from 7 years ago. Apparently, an album of me, my girlfriends and a male stripper can’t be rushed.
She was sort of upset over the photo borders she chose but I’m thinking that when there is a guy, with a leopard print banana hammock, in a photo – who’s noticing the borders you picked out?
Anyway, I decided to bring the album down to the basement so that my girls wouldn’t stumble on pictures of me with this other… um… gentleman.
And since I was going to the basement, I decided to throw in a load of laundry.
Except I inadvertently threw the album into the washing machine too. And then started it.
Please tell me you’ve done something like this.
Later on, I opened the washing machine to find my girls’ clothes covered in clumps of wet paper and about a gazillion pieces of stripper photos. Which I’m still picking off their clothes.
My apologies to my friend for destroying her carefully crafted album with the beautiful borders.
My apologies to Rex the stripper because he gave us his all that night (everything but the full monty) and he deserves better than to end up a soggy mess in my washing machine.
And my apologies again to Rex, because I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his actual name. But due to too many sake drinks that night, I can no longer recall.