Mall Day

on the go!

Yesterday we didn’t have anything scheduled to do. This hasn’t happened in a while so I decided to live on the edge and ask Bug what she wanted to do. Go to the mall! she exclaimed excitedly, like going to the mall is equal with Disneyland or something.

HOT on the go!

What is she a teenager already? What kind of kid wants to go to the mall when they are four? She’s crazy. Thankfully, I realize that going to the mall does not require spending money so I was open to the idea. Sure, we could walk around and look at things, maybe spring for lunch at the forbidden McDonalds and if I’m feeling super generous, I’ll let her ride the carousel for a buck. Not a bad day’s entertainment really.

stand off begging for a balloon

Then we found out that Toby was shooting some store fronts at the mall too. Hot dog! We could have a Take Your Daughter to Work Day. We hardly ever get to follow Toby around on his shoots because they are usually in super luxury homes with rugs you can’t walk on and breakable objects every where. Besides we don’t like to get in his way. At least I don’t.

big bubble lens

However, Toby was happy to have us come with him. Mall shoots can be tricky for him. Even though he wears a big press pass, has a super official looking camera and all the security guards on his side, he still worries that the shopping mall customers are going to get weirded out by him taking pictures of them. He doesn’t actually take photos of the customers. He photoshops them out on the computer afterwards but there will always be some woman who thinks he’s taking a photo of her and it causes problems. So having your wife and kid along can cut down on the weirdo perviness factor.

helping Daddy

Also, he just loves his little princess. She has him wrapped around her little finger. You think I spoil her? Well Toby is even worse.

Daddy caved

He bought her a stupid ten dollar balloon. TEN DOLLARS! I know! What a rip off. It better light up, glow in the dark and serve you a hamburger in my opinion. Well, it does light up. And it is super big and supposedly un-poppable which is a total lie since the outer clear balloon popped and scared the crap out of us as soon as we got into my steaming hot car to go home.

Ugh. I hate that balloon. It’s so big and constantly in my face. She has bopped me in the head on purpose and not on purpose about a thousand times. I feel like having a punching match with that balloon. I might have to take an exacto knife to it in the night and say the fairies stole it.

Prada

But it made her happy and it made Toby happy and it was strangely photogenic in the mall which made me happy. Which is sort of the same way I feel about that silly pink puffy skirt that she’s been wearing for a month straight now.

pink balloon

I hate it and I desperately want to wash it but it does look cute in photos, I have to admit. It also gets us special treatment. You should hear the things people say to her when we’re out and about. Her pinkness this and her highness that and, oh look at the pretty princess etc etc etc…No wonder she doesn’t want to wear anything else. She’s getting used to this and she really does believe she is a princess. Which makes me the evil non-stepmother who makes her wear ugly non-pink clothes, clean her room and who also won’t buy her expensive balloons that don’t even come with a coupon for a free hamburger!

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In other news, I’ve been writing away over on my review blog and I’ve been terrible about touting my posts here. Please go check them out because seriously, I get to give $100 away a week! This week I’m writing about my early bird secrets! Do you have any? Comment and win some mulah!

The Shresh

Shresh hot or not

When I was a teenager I loved to wear long shirts over leggings. We all did, right? It was the late eighties. I remember my Aunt Knittery particularly did not like this fashion. She’d tease me constantly, asking me if I was wearing a shirt or a dress. In the end she called it a “shresh,” said with a layer of eye-rolling and pity. I didn’t care. I thought I looked cool.

Here it is 2010 and I still like wearing long shirts or “shreshes” over pants. I still love leggings too but they don’t look as cute on me as they did when I weighed eighty-some pounds. I like to wear dresses over my old beat-up jeans. However, my husband thinks this is downright awful. I wish he was here to write a paragraph because he could probably sum it up with two or three scathing sentences that would have you rolling on the ground laughing.

I finally found an embroidered peasant blouse! Except it’s not a blouse. It’s a dress. I really wish it was a blouse. I could shorten it but that would cut off all the really pretty finishing stitches on the bottom. I could probably pull it off wearing it as a dress but it’s kind of short and super see-through. Sometimes I’m self-conscious of my knees. Wearing a slip under it would just ruin all the light-airiness of it. The perfect solution? Wear it over jeans!!!

Except Toby hates it. What do you guys think? Hot or not?