I hope everyone is still in possession of their digits.
For our 4th celebration, Ned and I decided to eat at this outdoor place near him, then walk to the top of a parking structure, where we'd have an unimpeded view of the fireworks. The restaurant was full, naturally, and it took 20 minutes or so to get a table, but finally we were outside, where it was breezy and delightful. There were all kinds of people wearing red, white and blue, which to me is like wearing a Christmas sweater, but what are ya gonna do?
There was a silver Lab out there on the patio with us, have you seen those? I think they must be a Lab and Weimaraner, and oh, they are so cute. The woman who owned him said she picked the biggest one in the litter for stud purposes, and that is when I punched her. Having been to the shelter often this week, and seeing how many cats and dogs are there in cages makes me less than patient with anyone out there breeding more animals.
But what're you gonna do? Clearly that is my theme question of the day.
While I was enjoying my chili, and I know it's weird to get chili in July, this small child wandered over and was attempting to climb the gate around the patio. He wasn't being obnoxious about it, he was just kind of seeing if he could, with his two-feet-tall self.
I turned to look at him, and he said, "Hi!"
"Hi." I do not speak Child.
"What's your name? I'm Kye."
Dudes, it sounded like Kye. It coulda been Kyle. Have I mentioned I don't speak Child? He had curly blond hair and he was a muffin. I mean, he was almost as cute as that silver Lab.
"What are you doing?" he asked me.
"What are YOU doing?" I asked, because I really didn't want to be all, well, I'm divorced and dating this really great guy, and right now we're looking for a place to move in together, and I'm dealing with my aging face and the fact that my decolletage looks like a cracked desert floor. I eliminated all that and just deflected the Q.
"I'm looking at that spider web." He pointed to the top of the fence, where indeed there was a web. "Oh, yeah," I said.
"Spiders make me afraid," he told me. I don't want him to grow up like me, so I told him how most spiders are nice and all you have to do is leave them alone. He seemed skeptical of this theory.
"Why is it up so high?" he said, still studying the web.
"Kye, come back here and don't bother the lady."
"We're talking," he said calmly. "I'm not bothering her. We're looking at a spiderweb." I assured his mom we were fine.
"I think the web is up so high because the spider makes a web and lays eggs and has babies." I get all my spiderology info from Charlotte's Web. "She makes it high up so it's safer."
The child, who I later learned was TWO AND A HALF, and who's this articulate at TWO AND A HALF, paused for a moment. He looked at me. "Well, yeah," he said.
That's pretty much the moment Ned coughed up beer, because that kid was SO unimpressed with me. Well, yeah. Who doesn't know that, big-haired lady? God.
His mom came to get him then, apologizing for his friendliness. I assured her she had a very cool kid, a kid who then said, "We're going to see fireworks! Want to come with us?!" His shoulders slumped when I turned him down.
Turns out, we totally shoulda joined Kye and his mom, because we got so busy talking that all of a sudden we could hear fireworks, and we ran as fast as we could to the parking structure and we missed them anyway. I should clarify that by "ran as fast as we could" I mean we walked over there sort of briskly, as I was in heels because that's what I do. News flash: am not one of those down-to-earth girls with practical shoes.
I was reading The New York Times the other day; I got Ned a subscription and now I am hooked, just like when they let you try the first hit of heroin for free. Does heroin come in "hits"? Anyway I adore the wedding section, and recently two women got married and they had a full-body shot of them, both wearing sensible flat shoes.
"Maybe I could just become one of those handsome women who has given up on trying to look cute," I said to Ned as I lounged in my 1950s slip I like to wear to bed because it's…cute. "Do you have any idea how much time I'd save?"
"Actually, I don't. How much time?"
I thought about it. If I gave up, I'd not spend money and time on
- gel manicures
- eyebrow waxing
- hair dye
- root touchups in between
- Nair for faces
- eyebrow-darkening powder and setting waxes
- 29449394 shades of eye shadow
- eye pencils
- liquid liner for when I'm feeling Mary Quant
- eye shadow brushes in 25 different thicknesses and slants
- lip pencils
- the 25 pinky brown lipsticks and glosses and stains and balms I buy
- shaving cream
- hair gel
- hair pomade
- beauty magazines
- push-up bras
Right there I've saved 8 million dollars in a year. But man would I look like Aunt Esther from Sanford and Son.
Okay, I have to go. I have to work out, and I didn't even count the expense of workout tapes, and by the way if I do all this why don't I look a LOT better? I'm barely squeaking by as a 6. For all this work I should at least be an eight and a half.
Before I take leave of you and kiss your hand, m'lady, I show you this:
As you can see from his stance, I took this right before daily beat-Edsel hour. Keeps him in line. Much like my beauty regime, if I spend this much time beating Edsel, why isn't he better behaved?