Days like this

It has been a full week since I have sat down to enjoy the little pleasures in life like laundry and bathroom cleaning. But now that Thanksgiving is over, Operation Christmas Child is done, and I am under house arrest in preparation for a medical test Friday there is nothing else I would rather do – right? Wrong. Along with bathrooms to scrub and the ever-growing mountain of laundry, there are dishes and more scrubbing. And school. When am I supposed to do school?

Unfortunately, all I want to do is recover from the last week and write, so I have come to a compromise. I write this post and then clean until lunch, fix my family lunch, do school until dinner, fix and clean up after dinner, do school until bedtime, and get up tomorrow and do it all over again. Brilliant.

As for yesterday I succeeded in doing something truly mundane. I shopped with my mother in a town  far far away from our little homestead. Due to the complete lack of Christmasness in our house because of Christmas travel plans Mom has decided to make an advent calendar of her own which includes pajamas and I think a cake… Mom keeps apologizing for the lack of surprise for me this Christmas, but is it her fault that I am inconveniently present every time she goes shopping or that I can figure out her internet purchases by the questions she constantly repeats and the browser paged she leaves open, not to mention the brown boxes with return addresses. I love my mom. Fortunately for me Christmas isn’t about the presents, but the people near and far, they mean the world to me. The fact that they would think about me at all and take the time and effort to give a little something as a token of their thoughts is incredible to me.

Back to yesterday:

Our car was in the shop, so we walked to the nearest shopping center to run errands and I am pretty sure there is a traffic camera somewhere with a soundless video with my mom laughing as I act out a hyperventilating friends reaction to a cockroach. I broke down and finally bought my first pair of jeans from an actual store, not a thrift store or a hammy down.

Finally the most awkward moment of the day…. that moment when you realize your thirteen year old sister is the some size, if taller, than you, so your mom has you try on all the teeny bopper clothing and then walks off to find some other clothes forcing you to inadvertently model those clothes for all the world to see…

Without further ado

– W

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