Are these 50 year old toes? Now really? And do the business gray pants go with the LL Bean flip flops?
Today the case of wine we ordered when visiting a winery outside Livermore CA arrived. Naturally the 6 year old immediately found his scissors and was trying to open the box. If he could get it opened I figured the first thing he'd do was shake the champagne. We'd tasted it after a friend's daughter's wedding. Three of the bride's mother's bridesmaids were there -between us all we have something like 16 children (something like...). Now, two weeks later I could only hope the safety scissors couldn't make it through the packing because I was busy holding onto the 6 year old's brother while another grand mal seizure tortured his muscles and try to calmly distract the younger one from both the box and his brother's grimacing face. Fortunately the safety scissors really are safe (and useless, but that's the point isn't it?). So, hey, just another day in almost paradise. The wine is safe, the 6 year old is about to be tucked in, the post ictal (I checked the spelling by the way) headache chased away with a nap and pepperoni pizza, my toes are still blue ... and I'm still 50. It's only almost afterall.
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