The Trouble with Tapeworms

So I blew off going to my classroom yesterday in the interest of picking up my engagement ring from the jewelry repairman (the prongs were worn down and I was one good knock away from screaming, "NOBODY Move!" to an entire class of second graders).  The jewelry store just so happens to be in one of my favorite shopping areas, so yeah, I did that, too.  Old Navy was having some crazy good sales on kids clothes ($10 jeans!).  The Clover is easy to shop with.  She zeroes in on what she likes, can always find her size and pretty much rocks it (she did once ask me if I thought our cat thought that she (Clover) was fashion forward).  So it was easy finding things for her.  I had to limit it, actually.  The Cubscout, on the other hand, is hard.  Like most boys, he doesn't like to shop.  He just doesn't get excited about all the new polos/socks/underwear/whatever.  I finally got him to pick two t-shirts himself (Angry Birds and Diary of a Wimpy Kid), but then it was back to, "meh".  I asked him at one point, "Do you just want me to pick some things and tell you 'wear this' every morning?"  He said, "That would be fine."  So, with a newfound license to dress my son the way I want, we headed to the jeans.  Now, my son is skinny.  When I say skinny, I mean really skinny (he eats and eats and eats, I promise).  I picked a pair of 12 Slim jeans, but didn't notice that they were relaxed fit.  He came out and they were wearing him.  So I switched him to straight fit.  The same.  The helpful clerk said, "Maybe you should try a slim."  I said, "These are slim."  She was all like, "Wow.  He's skinny."  I fought the urge to say, "Ya think?"  Then we headed to a different store.  Same results.  The 10's are too short and the 12's are too wide.  He has only one pair of pants that fit in his drawer at home.  I asked my DH what he thought.  He said that when he was a boy, he could only wear Wranglers (as lanky runs in the family).  So today, we are off to the Farm & Home in an effort to find some pants...plus that we're almost out of chicken feed.

Girls' Weekend

-OR- How I spent my spending money for the month on restaurant food
-OR- Why attention to details is important
-OR- If I ran a hotel built in 1905, I'd have cleaned the carpets at least once during the century

My sister-in-law, Tex, turned 50 this weekend (I don't know if I have ever mentioned that my DH Is the youngest of 10 kids), so my sisters-in-law decided that we would meet up in a tourist town one state away from her and us for a fun spa weekend.  I wasn't sure if I was going to go.  I hate to be away from home, even for a night.  Plus, I'm not their sister.  But the other two gals who married the brothers didn't get invited and Tex is FUN-NY!  So, I decided at the last minute to go.  Every email I read about the weekend said 28th and 29th.  So I packed my bag and met up with them in the Holler (the people of the town call it that...it's not just me being a city girl...I promise).  So we pile in the car and start cruising south for a weekend of fun.  We're making casual conversation and I ask the agenda for the weekend.  The sister in charge of it all tells me we're going to check in, go to dinner and then out Saturday.  Sunday morning we have brunch at the hotel followed by shopping and then whatever that evening.  We'll leave around 10AM on Monday.  Hold. The. Phone.  I thought that we were coming back on Sunday night...late.  So clearly, I hadn't made arrangements for the monkeys, nor told my DH that I wouldn't be back until Monday.  So I said, "I need to make a call."  I called my DH and started with, "I love you.  We aren't coming back until Monday.  I'll call my mom."  He was disappointed.  I called my mom and asked her to come over and watch the monkeys on Monday when my DH went to work (SURPRISE, MOM!).  Everyone in the car got a kick out of the situation.  They asked me if I had enough clothes packed to which I said, "This is me we are talking about...I just don't have as many options now."

Fast forward to arrival.  We ate at some restaurant called the Rowdy Beaver (I wish I was joking) and as I was picking at my $10 burger that was marginal at best (pink meat and bacon aren't my thing), I came to the realization that I might not have brought enough cash with me, and if I wanted to eat this weekend, I wouldn't be able to shop.  Finally, we made it to the hotel.  It was awesome looking from the outside:  built in 1905 with all original woodwork and tiling.  We got to the room and well...let's just say that housekeeping isn't a priority there.

Later that night, we went out.  Two of the girls got their drink on.  Two hung back and watched/kept the other two out of trouble.  Two left when it got too loud (that was me and my sister-in-law who is also a teacher).  We headed back to the room, watched the Olympics for a few minutes and fell asleep.  Good on us the next morning when we were functioning members of society.  We went to brunch and shopped our way back to the hotel.  The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. 

On Monday, after tearful goodbyes to Tex, we headed back to the Holler where we had left our cars.  I headed out for home, and made it a whole hour before I was expected (I thought we'd be back later...I didn't speed).  I was so glad to be back.  It's not that I had a bad time.  It was fine, good even.  It's just it would have been better if my family was with me.