Come shopping with me.
I’m sad and lonely. You owe it to me. Here, I’ll buy you a Rolling Rock when we’re done.
So I just bought this potty for Owen:
It’s yellow, which matches our footstool in the bathroom; when combined with the purple walls of that room, it forms the official school colors of the Maumee Bobcats. Grade school pride, yo. Also, it is the color of urine. That will either be a very good thing or a very gross thing.
I also would like to spend many hundreds of dollars at Cara’s
Urban Baby Runway store. So much good stuff! And lookit. I mean, c’mon: This crib set is even CALLED “Owen.” It’s kismet! I simply have to have it!
Then that makes me think about the Denyse Schmidt quilting book that I have my eyes on, which brings me to my Amazon wish list, where I found this little number, left lingering on my list from last Christmas: there’s something so earnest and devoted about it that I really, really want it. So tacky it’s beautiful? So cheesy it’s heartfelt? Whatever. I would wear it every day.
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10 Responses to “Come shopping with me.”
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hey- hang in there! just think positively- you can pee whenever you want! hell, you can even SHOWER whenever you want! there are upsides, is all i’m sayin. call if you need instant moral support.
Do I have to go shopping? YOU KNOW I hate shopping! I have bought exactly 2 shirts in the past year. Everything else is just hanging on and getting shabby. The state of my pants collection is just criminal. I am not a good shopper. It makes me so incredibly stressed and crabby. People who call shopping “therapy”? I just don’t get it. Unless they are talking shock treatment kind of therapy.
There are burb clothes on that Urban Baby website that must be bought.
Now, who has any money?
You guys, I slept in today. Real sleeping in, not the kind where you wake up with the screaming kid at six, make him a bottle, and hand him off to the spouse.
The uninterrupted kind.
It’s weird.
1. HVM, am fully planning to take a long quiet shower. I’ll get to shave and exfoliate and wash my hair all on the same day. It’ll be great.
2. OK, suebob. Here’s the deal. You have a martini (do you like martinis?) and give me your credit card and I’ll do your shopping for you. Just sit back, relax, and tell me whether or not you like purple lycra.
3.
We are all patting our pockets and coming up empty, huh? That’s why I like wish lists. The illuuuusion of shopping, crossed with the possibility of shopping with some future windfall.
A girl can dream.
I’ve been blinded by tri-color-gold kitsch. Ow.
oooh, I like the book. Books with many differnt projects in them are awesome.
I like shopping. We just have to drink beforehand, ‘kay? And afterward too.
I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but I see the appeal of that charm. And I don’t even wear yellow gold.
Hahah, Sarah. You know you love it.
Dude, elizabeth. I am in agreement.
MGM … I think shopping was meant to be done with a drink. A small one, so as not to alarm the clerks. Then you round it off with a big celebratory one. Or, if it was a particularly successful trip, give it to your husband and hide the credit card bill. (what? I’m kidding.)
I don’t wear yellow gold, either, but something about that charm makes me happy.
I would like to suggest making baby clothes that have things on them for the parents…instead of saying ” I roar like a lion,” why not have onesies that say “Don’t worry Mom, it’s unlikely that you’ll drop me on my head.”
I’m stocked with baby clothes, but still nervous!
I personally don’t wear gold but I’d totally wear that Mama charm in a second.
Thanks for the linkyloo! Sorry you can’t make the party but understand. We’ll have to break the news to poor Cricket