On Friday, Donald worked from home and we all had a very low-key day so that we could party like crazy Friday evening at my cousin’s wedding (the groom requested a passing reference in my blog: STEVE, THIS IS A PASSING REFERENCE!) (also: Congratulations!!).
In a moment of bumbling idiocy, by the way, we spent half the drive en route to the wedding (passing reference #2!) on surface streets and wound up stuck behind a train. And I KID YOU NOT, the barriers came down and the train approached…and while we waited the train stopped at a station, unloaded and loaded passengers, and then crossed the road in front of us.
Clearly the people who design railroad barriers have never been late to their cousin’s wedding (passing reference #3!).
Those two in color are from the Daddy-Daughter dance. Cute, no?
BUT I DIGRESS. The story I want to tell you about is, and I know this is going to come as a complete shock, about Charlotte. On the morning of the Infuriating Train Stop and the Pretty Awesome Wedding (passing reference #4!), Charlotte started playing with our living room drapes.
So here’s the deal: our drapes are just fleece blankets we found on the cheap. We call it The Dorm Look. You wouldn’t believe how many people look at them and go…WAIT A MINUTE, are those blankets? Yes, world. Yes they are.
Anyway, so Charlotte was wrapping herself in our drapes - which, because they are fleece, have a bit of stretch to them - and walking away from the window and over the course of about thirty seconds Donald and I warned her not to do what she was doing and to please watch out, but she’s a toddler and as such has a nasty habit of disregarding every word out of our mouths unless that word is “ice cream.”
So she wraps herself more and takes one last step away from the windows and our fleece blanket-drapes reach the end of how much they can stretch and BOOM! she got slingshot back and face-planted smack into the window.
It’s probably really cruel to laugh at a two-year-old when she bruises her noggin on a window, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell that story with a straight face. It was like the toddler version of slapstick.
Oh, and later we went to a wedding. (Passing reference #5, BOO-YAH!)
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