My day began at 6:08 this morning, my boys' chosen wake up time. Will they never adjust to this blasted time change? I need to point out that I'm used to my kids sleeping until 8, so this is pretty painful. At least today was a preschool day, so I had something to focus on as I dragged out of bed. Since I was up so early, I went ahead and jumped in the shower, thus making time for my Trip to the Mall. (Or Aunt Eddie's Mothership as Piglet calls it.)
While I was in the shower, I mulled over my dream last night. I dreamed, very clearly, that I had given birth to a third child, another boy (natch) whom I elected to name.....are you ready for this? Quaker. I purposely named a kid Quaker. I have no idea. Went to bed hungry? Dreamed of oats? Dunno. Best not to dwell too much on it, right?
Screamed into the parking lot at 8:47, dropped those kids off, and was outta there before the clock turned 9. Then I remembered that the mall doesn't open until 10. OF COURSE. In lieu of fun shopping, I came home, folded laundry, emptied the dishwasher and changed sheets. Aren't you jealous? Well, I should've just stuck to the housekeeping because the mall was terribly stressful.
I had a very specific mission: jeans at the Gap, check H&M for sweaterish wrap thing/something to possibly wear to Christmas events, and scan Pottery Barn for markdown deals on which to use longstanding gift card. Simple, right? I made it through Pottery Barn (two lemon topiaries for $14!) and H&M (one sweater thing) before I was attacked by Lunatic Hair Freak from the Flat Iron Kiosk.
For reasons I can't explain, kiosks weird me out anyway. People are always hocking something, trying to get you to do weird things in the middle of a mall....remember those water massage tables? Massage chairs? Eyebrow waxing? Braids? Make up application? It's just too much. This small, zippy, perky girl spots me and darts across the floor to attack me.
It's like she was looking for me: Ooh! Long, straight hair! She'll buy this! I politely took the card she thrust into my hand and tried to walk away, but she grabbed a strand of my hair and started straightening it! For real! She had me by the hair. "Um, I just did that this morning, but thanks!" I tried to squirm away from her, but before I knew it she had made a curl in my hair. Like a long, boing-y curl. "Look!" she squealed. "It doesn't brush out!" She combs the curl while counting her strokes. "One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Look, still there, good as new! Even if you wet it, it will stay! Six, seven, eight...." I believe she went to 15. People were staring. All I could think of was lice.
Why not walk away, you might ask? Well, she had me. I was stuck there with one -ONE! - curl on my otherwise straightened head of hair. "Um, you gotta take that out. I have to go." I smiled politely. She just kept talking. She was selling me this thing half price, giving me a free travel one, a free bottle of heat protectant. It was endless. It wasted 20 minutes of my life, and I could NOT for the life of me get away from her. Finally, I convinced her I was just going to the Gap to think about it and told her I had to walk right past her on my way out, and I busted a move to get away.
I was half scared she was going to follow me to the Gap. I found my jeans and got out of there Quicky McFasty and headed to my car like a criminal. I walked all the way down to a Macy's, went up their escalator, and doubled back over the Flat Iron kiosk, hugging the wall, lest she spot me up above. It was stressful. I may have bad dreams.
That is, if I ever get to sleep. It is 10:06pm right now and I just had to go up to Piglet's room and help him a) down from his dresser, where he climbed because he "wanted to speak directly into the monitor to call me", and b) back into his zip up pajamas, which he took off to "check and see how his toe was doing, but he couldn't get them back on." Do you know WHY my four year old is up at 10pm? Because he took a nap today. Why? Because he was up at 6:08am. Why? BECAUSE OF THE TIME CHANGE! It's the worst vicious cycle. And we are traveling home Thursday through Monday, so that will only make it worse. I just give up.
Until these kids get back on a normal schedule, you may have to hear about what time I have to get up each day. Promise.
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I have to ask: How long did the curl last? Did it survive water? 100 brushings? :)
Those mall kiosks also creep me out. I hate when they come at you with some kind of fragrence or lotion -- I'm allergic to many such products so I've learned to walk by and pretend I just don't hear them. There may be a sizable population of mall kiosk workers who think I'm deaf.
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