Today for lunch, I brought Emma home. Well, to the park down the street, where Logan could meet her on neutral ground, as that’s what they say is best. She’s now home, enjoying some AC and a soft carpet, quite the upgrade over industrial fans and concrete pound pavement.
Today for lunch, I went over to my folks’ place to help my mom out. She’s still getting back up to speed after the hip replacement. So I did stuff like clean the patio furniture, mop the kitchen floor, shovel some laundry around, and shred old wills. Good times!
Today for lunch, we all met at The Rack to return a pair of the shoes we’d gotten for Ali…which she says are too tight.
Is there anything more fun when you’re a kid than playing in the clothing racks? They played house like it was going out of style. My favorite was when people would come up to shop at a rack they were hiding in. The girls would get real still and watch. I so wanted them to pull back on the shirt when the customers would take an item off the rack.
I guess I should be thankful they’re not MORE mischievous.
Today for lunch, we all went to go visit Emma again. But afterwards, the girls took a detour to see the cats. Awww…so cute. I have to admit, there are few things cuter than a kitten chasing a feather attached to string designed specifically for you to torment said cat with.
Today for lunch, I went to visit Emma. She’s obviously housebroken, so we’re trying to get someone over every day so she can get out, have a good poop (or three), and to let her get to know us. Especially me, honestly. She seems most skittish around me. Might be my size, might be because I’m a guy and she had a mean male owner. But she doesn’t put her tail down or keep away from me. She’ll let me pet her and such, so I’m hoping it’s just a thing that will pass. Assuming her owner doesn’t miraculously show up, we take her home a week from today!
Today for lunch, I dined in the trendy Holmes Reguonal Medical Center cafeteria with my pops. My mom had hip replacement surgery in the morning, so I came over to hang with my dad (and a slightly drugged post-op mom) for the day.
Today for lunch, I scoped out a tailor. I have a few pieces of clothes that I’d like to keep that just don’t fit right, either because of the cut they started with or because I’ve lost weight since buying them. I found these guys via Yelp, and they’re about a mile away from work. Score.
My plan is as follows: I have two shirts that are the same brand, style, and size. They’re nice dress shirts and in perfectly good condition, they’re just XXL’s and I wear XL’s now (yay!). My plan is to take one shirt to this tailor and one to Nordstrom’s in-store tailor. Then compare. I like to call this plan “Tailor Wars”. Mostly because I find the idea of tailors embroiled in the violence of battle to be amusing.
“Attack!! But try not to pop any seams!”
I’m sure Revolutionary War tailors turned patriotic heroes are turning in their trim-fit graves.