Absolutely nothing!
Although that's not quite true. I do have a towel on my head, which usually brings out the deep thoughts (which is why I try not to have a towel on my head for very long. Deep thoughts are tiring).
I've just made a tuna pasta salad. But while I love me some tuna salad with peas, celery, purple onion, Hellman's Light Mayo, Lawry's salt, and dill, tuna is not a food to be dealt with in the morning, unless you are a cat. Then it's like cake, which a body can tolerate at any time of the day.
So now I smell like fish, and I have to go to a cross country picnic (the running season starts soon for Paulie) smelling like I've been digging around on a whaling vessel (or, if you're Chekov from Star Trek, a valing wessel. I kill me)
And speaking of killing myself with laughter, I almost died yesterday (in a similarly figurative way. Not literally) because I took three teenagers shopping for clothes. Paul and Hayley were fine. They spotted things they liked and spent five minutes trying the items on and were done with it. Other Jim, on the other hand (HA) took FOR. EVER. Back when he was in junior high, all he wanted were shirts with one stripe across the chest. That's all he would wear on his upper body. Then in early high school, he changed to t-shirts with funny sayings on them. Then in later high school, he switched to polo shirts exclusively (and not just any kind. He wanted plain dark colors in a certain fabric). So yesterday when we were at Kohl's, I kept trying to interest him in polo shirts. But he would have none of them. He finally decided that now he is a short sleeve, button-up shirt with a plain grey or black t-shirt underneath guy now. And he had to try them all on, and they had to be just the right feel of fabric (tending towards dressy). Then when I tried to muscle him over to the shoes (cuz his are falling apart), he had to make a side trip through the suits. I barked at him vociferously. I've nearly had it with him and suits. And the shoes were no picnic either. I picked out dozens of shoes for myself, tried them on, etc all in the time he took to find ONE pair of tennis shoes.
When we FINALLY got home, I laid myself down on my bed fully expecting to wake up in the arms of eternity after having to spend half my life in the men's department at Kohl's.
Alas, I was still among the living when I woke up, but it was dinner time and I was still beat, so we had pizza. I love Jim's second job.
Time to remove the towel.
I've just made a tuna pasta salad. But while I love me some tuna salad with peas, celery, purple onion, Hellman's Light Mayo, Lawry's salt, and dill, tuna is not a food to be dealt with in the morning, unless you are a cat. Then it's like cake, which a body can tolerate at any time of the day.
So now I smell like fish, and I have to go to a cross country picnic (the running season starts soon for Paulie) smelling like I've been digging around on a whaling vessel (or, if you're Chekov from Star Trek, a valing wessel. I kill me)
And speaking of killing myself with laughter, I almost died yesterday (in a similarly figurative way. Not literally) because I took three teenagers shopping for clothes. Paul and Hayley were fine. They spotted things they liked and spent five minutes trying the items on and were done with it. Other Jim, on the other hand (HA) took FOR. EVER. Back when he was in junior high, all he wanted were shirts with one stripe across the chest. That's all he would wear on his upper body. Then in early high school, he changed to t-shirts with funny sayings on them. Then in later high school, he switched to polo shirts exclusively (and not just any kind. He wanted plain dark colors in a certain fabric). So yesterday when we were at Kohl's, I kept trying to interest him in polo shirts. But he would have none of them. He finally decided that now he is a short sleeve, button-up shirt with a plain grey or black t-shirt underneath guy now. And he had to try them all on, and they had to be just the right feel of fabric (tending towards dressy). Then when I tried to muscle him over to the shoes (cuz his are falling apart), he had to make a side trip through the suits. I barked at him vociferously. I've nearly had it with him and suits. And the shoes were no picnic either. I picked out dozens of shoes for myself, tried them on, etc all in the time he took to find ONE pair of tennis shoes.
When we FINALLY got home, I laid myself down on my bed fully expecting to wake up in the arms of eternity after having to spend half my life in the men's department at Kohl's.
Alas, I was still among the living when I woke up, but it was dinner time and I was still beat, so we had pizza. I love Jim's second job.
Time to remove the towel.
Comments
How tiring but also funny for you to have such a fashion-conscious son. After Mike got back from Iraq I demanded that he change up his wardrobe from t-shirts. It wasn't without a fight, but he complied. Now I'm finding he managed to slowly crawl back to his t-shirt wearing days. New t-shirts arrive in the mail almost weekly around here. Grrr. Make O.J. have a talk with him.