Today is one of those days where I would have been happy to just stay in in bed and read a book from cover to cover. But I am not in bed. I’m hanging around in long, fuzzy pants. You may be asking, “Why Leslie? Is it cold where you are?”
And I would tell you no. It is not cold. It’s more about my mood. I’m in a long, fuzzy pants kind of mood. I only wish I had some big furry sox* to wear, too. I don’t, though. My feet are naked. And cold. I contemplated taking up knitting so I could knit myself some sox*, but then I got tired of that. Knitting probably takes some time to learn. I’m not up for that much learning today.
I have sox*, though. Just in case you’re wondering about that. You shouldn’t feel bad for me. I own sox*. I have them. I just don’t have furry sox*. It isn’t a dire situation.
You know what is a dire situation? The situation in which Julia needs a popsicle. She has been following me around declaring, “Mom! PLEASE HAVE A POPSICLE!”
I cut her off after four. Although she will debate that I only gave her two. They’re those double popsicles with the two sticks. They look like this:
I break them in two and give her one stick at a time. She’s had a total of four sticks. Even though I’ve told her she’s had enough and that she should not ask again, she continues to make demands for them in rapid succession and I don’t know how to make her stop.
Just so you know, banging my head against the table each time she pauses to take a breath does not work.
Speaking of my head, I’m thinking about the hair on it. I think I want to cut it. Short. I’m thinking like a Jane Lynch do. What do you think?
You think that you don’t know who Jane Lynch is. Am I right? You know her. You love her, too. If you don’t know her, you must go and watch A Mighty Wind right this very moment. Whatever you are doing, it cannot be more important than discovering Jane Lynch and the magnificient comedy that is A Mighty Wind. Go wherever you must to retreive the film and view it. Tell me you love it. If you don’t, lie to me. And if you’ve already seen it and you love it, well, then you…you are my favorite.
And now that I’m out of segues, I’ll just ask you: Do you have any idea how much I love Tommy James & The Shondells? I love them. Truly. I’m all about “Crimson and Clover” right now. And if you can slow dance to that song with your special someone without it leading to sex, then you need to rethink your relationship. It’s a sexy song people. Not the Joan Jett version, though. Just the original. By Tommy James & The Shondells. S-E-X-Y. Go put it on and get you some.
Right after you enter The Haiku Buckaroo Contest.
*Edited to add a THANK YOU to Karly for pointing out that the correct spelling is actually SOCKS, not SOX.
This humiliating experience is not unlike the time I included information about the trip to see the “Calves” play basketball in Cleveland on the Greek Council agenda in college. And I did really go to college, by the way. Despite all the evidence to the contrary.