Tuesday, February 16, 2016

TLG at NIGHT. Crazy.

I really do want to lose weight.

That is something I have to remember when I decide to get champagne drunk on a Monday night and eat a sleeve and a half of Thin Mints.

Think Mints are dead to me now, by the way.  So are fucking Veggie Straws.

I took Dorothy and Cooper to a makeup Little Gym class last night, and they were both animals because they were off their routine. Cooper cried almost the whole time, in part, I think, because Jack dropped the bomb on the way over that he and Cooper are likely getting their tonsils out in the very near future.  Cooper said he's not, actually, because he needs his tonsils to eat.  Jack explained that's not true, and Cooper said he is not doing it anyway.  'I am keeping them," he told me.  So.  Look forward to hearing more about that soon.

 They really are best friends.
 I made pesto last night, and it does not look as delicious without fresh basil-- the color is definitely off.
 Yesterday was such a terrible slog that I felt compelled to pop the champagne the minute everyone was asleep.  Which wasn't until 8:47 because Dorothy couldn't fall asleep, something she must have forgotten about when she popped out of bed at 5:08.  Blergh.
ETA:  I already told this story on Facebook, so I didn't think about putting it here, but it's pretty funny.  In class today, I was pacing in front of the room with my hand in the deep pocket of my sweater because that's my go-to I-want-to-look-smart gesture, and I felt something in my pocket.  I pulled it out only to discover with horror that it was MY UNDERWEAR which I immediately dropped back in the pocket and am pretty sure my students just think was a giant flag-like handkerchief.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous9:48 PM

    No, they totally know it was underwear. Seriously, who do you see with handerkerchiefs these days? If it makes you feel any better, when I was in kindergarten, my mom dropped me off at school and wondered why all the kids were pointing at our car and laughing. A pair of her huge granny-panties was hanging off the edge of the license plate (we park the car in front of the washing machine and apparently that week's laundry pile was especially high).