You know how I know I'm old? I like a lot of these dresses, but I look at every single one and think, too short! Waaaaaay too short. That is not a dress, sweetie, it is a shirt. (It's impossible to even read that sentence without hearing the granny voice in your head, isn't it?) I'm pretty sure I can see underpants. Also, are we really supposed to be sporting the fashions of Naomi from Mama's Family this season? I don't think I can get on board with that.
Luckily I can't afford any new clothes so these dilemmas are strictly hypothetical.
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This weekend begins my new life of having every other weekend off. I was at the end of my rope with the working every single weekend thing, and I'm a little bit dizzy with the freedom of having two whole days off with the family. We have about a hundred things planned: brunch, zoo, karaoke, etc. (Well, Soren might skip the karaoke. He just can't ever remember how the songs go--it gets embarrassing.)
We're also having an open house this Sunday, so swing on by! It's not a great house, but the price is right. Plus it has, as our realtor pointed out in the listing, "Large lot perfect for endless games of croquet!" We have played croquet there, but in recent years our yard has mostly featured cornhole tournaments. I guess "perfect for endless cornholing" doesn't conjour up quite the same image of Edwardian aristocracy for prospective buyers.
5 comments:
The phrase "I don't understand what the kids these days are wearing" came out of my mouth on Sunday. I think that makes me officially old.
I've reached an age where I see hip clothes I like, then realize how old I am and remember my high school friend Julie's mom who always dressed way too young for her age and looked ridiculous, and well...then I buy a sensible t shirt. Sigh.
I feel you ladies.
Love cornhole!!
Better Naomi than Mama, right?
Actually, maybe not.
PS- One of our favorite things to say in our house when we are chagrined is "But, MAMA," in a Vinton voice.
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