Monday, May 13, 2013


It was a long Mother's Day yesterday.  Gina had festival in Bakersfield on Saturday but was determined to be home Sunday morning for her special day.  So she drove through the night and rolled into bed a little after 3AM.  Of course, with kids there's always a 7AM wake up call.  So she was pretty much running on fumes the entire day.  We then headed out to her aunt's house, which is about 2 hours from us, for a day of excess swimming in the oven like heat that hit So Cal over the weekend (didn't drop below 80 at our house until about 2AM this morning).  So by the time we made it home, got everyone into bed and mustered the energy to pour a Margarita, neither of us could be pried from the couch.  That is until, in the ominous dark and silence, we heard a toilet flush upstairs.  There were a few thoughts running through my head: 1) I'm so proud of whoever got up and went to the bathroom all on their own, 2) who dared to get up from bed on their own, 3) I hope she wiped and 4) which of us is going to go up and check on this?  It's Mother's Day (and she made  no movement at all) so I got up and trudged upstairs to investigate.  The light in the bathroom was off, and the bedroom door was only slightly ajar so my first thought was she went back to bed. .. how cool.  Nope!  As I passed the dark bathroom I saw a silhouette moving around.  Sure enough, there was Genevieve, standing on a stool and checking herself out in the mirror. ... in the dark. ... wearing her bloody high heels!  WTF?!  I looked at her, just a look, and she fell to pieces: "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I couldn't even come up with a response.  So I hugged her, slipped her heels off and slid her back into bed.  All I could say as I descended the stairs, shaking my head and Gina asked what that was all about. ... "What the F....?"

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