As you can plainly see, Friday was the Mother's Day Tea at Girl-Child's preschool. Not only that, apparently some are behind in paying their May tuition. And have forgotten socks. When Boy-Child#2 attended this same preschool some few years ago, we mothers were treated to a pedicure as our special gift. Not one for being taken off guard, when I dropped my daughter off at 9:00am, I asked one of the teachers the requisite question:
Me: "You don't have to tell me what you're doing here today just let me know if I should go home and shave my legs"
Teacher: "When in doubt, shave your legs"
See? I not only give advice; I seek and heed it. I wanted to be surprised I just didn't want to be surprised.
We enjoyed a spread that consisted of banana-strawberry smoothies and cinnamon toast. I had forgotten how much I love cinnamon toast. (Note to self: Make this)
Some of us enjoyed it more than others.
Second picture. Third glass. I had to hide her keys.
Mother and daughter. We're both wearing leggings because I like to dress like a four year old. It helps me feel younger. So does sitting my 5' 8", one hundred and lksdjf pound self in a chair designed for four year olds. Also? I don't have one of those cameras that adds ten pounds. My camera adds anorexia. I don't know what the hell my clavicle and my manubrium are doing here but they are very proud of themselves! (Note to self: Enjoy occasional donut)
Quiet Cozy area where your child can administer a massage. And when I say massage I mean jump on your back. By the way, there's a mother out there right now who would kick my ass if she knew this photo was here. Let's not tell her, mmmkay?
This is where the magic happened. I say magic because I was *this* close to paying for a pedicure last Wednesday but magically ran out of time. (Note to self: Bullet dodged)
The finished product. Bright pink (otherwise known as fuschia) polish over existing plumby red and also major portions of toes. And underneath. Look for it in magazines this summer.
Sunday morning, Mr. Farklepants
hog-tied and duct taped the children's mouths shut kept the children quiet so that I could sleep in. Until a ringing phone woke me at 9am. I'm not going to say who it was that called that early on a Sunday morning but it was someone who was eager to hear a "Happy Mother's Day". Hint: not my mom.
School made gifts from my boys were a painted ceramic tile (Boy-Child#2) and a jar full of love notes from Boy-Child#1 that said things like: "I love you because you're nice", "I love you because you give me food", "I love your hair", "I love how you do my laundry", "I love pie", "I love you because you gave me a dad", and "I love you because I do". You know what Boy-Child#1? I love my hair too. And pie.
We here at Vintage Thirty (and by we I mean me) hope you thoroughly enjoyed your Mother's Day!!!