In my ongoing efforts to provide better content for the whole six of you that read this blog, I've been vowing to start posting here daily. This morning I started trying to find something to blog about but nothing came to me even after a torturous 2 minutes of wracking my brain. At last, this afternoon, Mindie provided inspiration.
I love my kids but sometimes they are total spazzes. Which is probably not a surprise to anybody who knows ME since I am also a total spaz. But I think my kids surpass me.
Earlier this afternoon Shannen had to give her sister a hand. Mindie had been sitting at her computer, reading and twirling her hair as she often does when concentrating. She must have been concentrating very hard because before she knew it, her finger was caught in her hair so completely that she couldn't get it out. Yes, my daughter had to get up and walk through the house with her hand stuck on her head because her finger was so tangled in hair that she needed help pulling herself loose from her personal "tar baby." Shannen, always happy to help (inflict pain), grabbed Mindie's hand and yanked as hard as she could. Mindie's hand came loose, still bearing a huge wad of hair. Niiiiiiiice. And where was I during all this? Laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.
I don't know what it is with Mindie, but I swear she is the most accident-prone kid I know. Saturday we went to a big graduation dinner at church. On the way inside Mindie tripped (on misplaced molecules of air) and went flying, face-first, to the ground. She lay there, stunned, and Shannen and I suppressed giggles and pretended to be helpful. Finally I gave her a hand getting back up. Apparently my laughter wasn't appreciated because she did her darndest to drag me to the ground with her.
Then there was Friday night. I only have this story second-hand because I was sound asleep when it happened but it's too good not to pass on anyway. Apparently the kid decided to cut her toenails. She has to do that often and it's quite the ordeal since she got her father's toenails which are roughly the hardness of horse hooves. This particular night she was hunched over with the clippers working away when a stray toenail shot out of the clippers and jabbed her square in the eye. We're all grateful she wasn't blinded by her projectile nail clipping which was a distinct possibility. Instead she sat there for a minute, blinking back tears, then realized the hilarity of the situation. In true Mom spirit, she went across the hall to her sister's room and actually ratted herself out for being such a big spaz because somehow it makes you feel less like a dork if your spazziness can at least give someone else a good laugh. And Shannen did, indeed, have a good laugh. As did I the next day when I heard the story.
And just to prove that this blog isn't all about humiliating my children, I give you the following story about myself: the day I took Mindie to have her spacers put in, we had lunch at Carino's. After the meal Mindie asked if anyone else needed to go to the restroom. I didn't but knowing she wouldn't go on her own (because people might stare at her if she used the public restroom alone - bet you didn't know that's why women go in groups, did you?) I volunteered to accompany her. We traveled all the way across the packed restaurant to the restroom where I decided since I was there I'd give it a shot anyway. That's when I discovered that I had just walked all the way through a crowded public place with MY FLY DOWN.
So, yeah, a few embarrassing stories about myself and my daughter to brighten your day. Now brighten mine up with an embarrassing story of your own. Please. I need to know I'm not the only loser in the world.