NOW we're ready

It's every teenage girl's worst nightmare. For us, that means times four. Yes, we are parents who insist that their kids must have their picture taken with Santa. This buys them room and board for the next year. (Although a lady in line asked if she could be in the picture and come live for free, too.) So here we are at Manchester Mall - where I might add the REAL SANTA can be found during the month of December. (The other months, this REAL SANTA can be found at Caltrans!) His face is shaded because I have a big, fat head, but he really is a good Santa. DD#3 wants me to point out that she's really not fat, it's just the way her [pink] shirt lies. I would like to point out that I'm really a size 4 - I just photograph large. :o) And hubby - well, yes, he meant to look like that. And DD#4 was getting a headache (this is a long-standing theme). DD#1 and DD#2 were just glad to be at the photo point so that dinner could come next. Besides, this beats the days where the kids were screaming with fear of Santa. But there was no bleed and no vomit, so I deemed it was a good picture. NOW Santa can come.

Merry Christmas!
Cheryl

Jessica Simpson, just go away

Jessica Simpson, should you happen across my blog (LOL), please stay away fromTony. We don't want you messing up our game. Again. If you won't stay away, at least stay away from Texas Stadium on Sundays, fair? I understand Tony's a cutie (believe me, I DO understand this) and until Sunday's game he was the best NFL quarterback. Let him have that back.

Go away.

Public Service Announcement for single women

I learned something that may be valuable (to some) yesterday morning at the grocery store. Early Sunday morning is when the single men shop. Tis true. It seemed like a glorious time for me to do a "big" shop; but it was me, the box boys, and more than enough single men wandering around the store. Now these aren't the hot eligible bachelors a single woman may dream of. These are the middle aged divorcees who are there to buy breakfast ingredients because they forgot they had the kids for the weekend. "Meat market" does not describe the Sunday morning market, that's for sure. As I glanced at the singles, I chuckled (mostly to myself!) and thought how grateful I am to NOT be in the "meat market" game. Oh how nice to drive home to a husband who then helped unload and put away groceries! I wouldn't trade that for a store FULL of single men!

Be blessed,
Cheryl