We vacuum in heels. Who is this? The next June Cleaver?
We dyed Easter eggs. We made such a mess.
Some turned out good. Some not so good.
I tried to explain to Little that we have to keep the eggs in the refrigerator, so they will dry. Pouting ensued about the eggs being in the fridge.
This is the pouting stance. Won't look at you. Arms crossed. Now, we are pouting because we can't go down to the pond.
The best part of the Easter party, at least in Little's eyes.
The worst part of the party.
We hunted eggs three different times this weekend. This is at Big Daddy's.
Please forgive the next footage. This is raw.
Morning hair. How appropriate she likes the barrettes from her basket best.
And even though we are terrified of the Easter bunny, he still came to see us.
Now let's get serious. Yesterday in church, I had a particularly mortifying experience. Little was determined she was going to sit with her Memaw. I told her she could, handed her bag over, and pointed her down the outside aisle. She made it safe and sound.
For about five minutes. Then, she comes back up the same aisle, but this time she proceeds to wave (the only thing missing was her crown). Everyone turns and smiles at us.
Don't for one second think this is the embarrassing part. It would not be.
Now on Easter Sunday, every church is full of visitors. Ours is no exception. Yesterday, some visitors happened to sit in front of us, Apparently, we seem like a nice, wholesome family. Like a family you would want to sit in front of.
Well, when Little gathers up her Sunday School crafts, she begins to head back up the very same aisle to return to her Memaw.
No, ma'am. I would not let her go. Well, we teared up, began to cry, and suddenly got a little loud. So I pick her up to remove her from church, and before I could get out the doors............
She loudly says, TWICE,
"What are you going to do to me?"
Let me say, contrary to her Oscar winning performance, I do not routinely beat her or torture her.
Mortified!
No comments:
Post a Comment