EIGHT

Using the model on the right, I was able to figure out a little dress for V based on the shirt she loves the most. I'm pretty proud.

2015 week eight

Signs my husband is sick: he not only is happy to eat soup for dinner, but also requests it, four nights in a row; he wants to take a bath; he doesn't want to draw or play with his drone; he asks me to just sit and snuggle him; he says he  would be happy to just watch Downton Abbey or Dr. Who with me. Poor thing, he must really feel awful.

Mardi Gras Cat.

I don't even know what was going on in the back seat when Matt turned around and saw this crazy face. 

Matthew has been so. sick. this week. To give him a little break I took V outside to pick all the weed flowers. 

It was the best game ever. We found a few dandelions that had gone to seed and when I blew them away Vera squealed, "Bubbles!"

Would you willingly enter this building? Yeah, that's exactly how I was feeling. But we paid money, and voluntarily locked ourselves inside a room with strangers and a zombie to complete locks and puzzles to try to escape. We all died, and I was the first to die,  but we had a fun time. 

Popsicles with Matt's cousin's husband in Dallas at Steel City Pops. The coconut was the most perfect coconut popsicle you could imagine. I got strawberry balsamic. It was interesting. It had an intriguing sweet and sour salty thing going on. Next time, I'll try avocado.

Her face was too cute to not share even though my hair looks lank and stringy. Probably you didn't notice, but I do not love this photo. Also, if you look closely you can see Vera's little "rat teeth" as Matt calls them. She's only grown in her two middle bottom teeth and she looks like a little rodent at times. 

Then we had dinner with Matt's cousin and husband at Remedy in Dallas. Their thing is a "what you'd buy at any ol' diner if it was made from the best possible ingredients." It looked like you walked onto the set of Great Gatsby inside. We sat outside where V wouldn't really disturb the posh Lower Greenville avenue patrons. 

We had a smoked ham plate and deviled eggs for hors d'oeuvre and I got the filet o' (texas Rock)fish with fries, Matt got the fried bologna sandwich, Erica got the Amish fried chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans and a beet grapefruit salad, Melvin got the bourbon pork chops with brussel sprouts and ancho chile spoon bread and a pork belly and turnip salad. Everything was just perfect. And the waiters and maitre d' kept waiving and dancing at V through the window. Which, of course, she loved. At the end of the meal we let her hold the doggy bag and she danced around the patio while we finished up.  I want to go back, right now.

And in conclusion, does anyone know where we can find a back bracket to fit this "L" shaped drawer glide? It bends at a 90 degree angle at the back. There are freaking no brackets like this that exist online. And Matthew broke the other one.

A short story. I watch two daycare babies now. A few weeks ago I had the older one later in the evening one day. He had been feeling off and I noticed that he smelled that horrible telling smell. So I grabbed a diaper and wipes and tried to hold him on his back (near impossible) to change this diaper. I was unprepared for the yellow liquid sewage in the diaper. But I got him all wiped and the new diaper under his bun. I lifted his legs to get any off of his back and a super soaker of yellow sewage sprayed directly onto my shirt, arm, wall, carpet... At that exact moment Matthew walked around the corner to see the squirt and hear my scream. I had to take off all of my clothes because the smell seeped through.  I soaked the stain, but the shirt was irreparable. Good bye favorite stripey shirt. Matt just called it an "occupational hazard." 

Veronica, have I told you lately how much I love that you use the toilet?