Phaedra Goes to Homecoming

Running wildly around the house, curling a ton of hair, accidentally dropping and burning the child with the curling iron, applying make-up, secretly shedding a tear or two, and a hurried photo shoot as Phaedra goes to Eighth Grade Homecoming.

Just another ordinary Friday night in December. 

Phaedra is applying my red lipstick as she gets ready for Eighth Grade Homecoming. This is the third homecoming I've helped her get ready by doing her hair and make-up. 

In sixth grade she was Disney Princess in a black and purple dress, that I picked out without consultation. Last year she picked the 'Mermaid' dress. It was the very first and only dress she tried on. This year I took her shopping. In the first three hour outing she tried on 30 dresses! She teared up and nearly cried on the way home because she thought she wasted my time. Clearly Phaedra was raised by a man who only shops on Ninja Missions.  Last night she drags J2 out to five stores only to purchase the very first of the 30 dresses she tried on. 

She is always a beauty and growing up so quickly in the past two and a half years! 

Throwback Thursday: August 8, 1995

Last month or last year by admitting my past fashion faux pas I put myself out on Main Street. I admitted to not only owning but wearing stone washed Kelly green jeans. 

Finally, what y'all have been waiting for, the much asked for proof!

Straight from a family photo album: Family vacation, Lake Erie, Pennsylvania on our way back from Niagara Falls, August 8, 1995. 

I do not know what happened to those pants, but I still have the fabulous polyester baseball shirt. 

Fashion Icon

Last week a coworker told me she bases her daily outfit on the phrase, "What would Averill wear?"

Today, I dressed like The Queen of the Bohemian Hobos. 

Coworker is going to have a hard time keeping up with the wild ideas that run through my head and how my hands run through my closets.

Sweater: Ross Dress for Less

Dress: thrift store find

Belt: thrift store find

Boots: The North Face from 6pm.com

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving from these Little Effers to you and your Little Effers! 

Bohemian Rhapsody

The car is full. All five of us are on our way to EngineerBrother's for Thanksgiving dinner. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen comes on the radio. I turn it up.

J2 and I are singing to our hearts content.

Just before the Wayne's World head banging part I get so excited because there are enough people in the car that we can reenact the scene.

I tell everyone, "Get ready to head bang." \m/ 

There I am, driving the Averill-mobile, head banging to Bohemian Rhapsody, all by myself.

From now on I'm calling all of them The Little Effers.

Doorman to Hell

Tip for the future: If you are inside the door of Chuck E Cheese and want to cross the threshold do not joke with the bouncer/doorman. 

J2 and I are inside the door and waiting at the doorman podium. I am holding an armful of birthday presents and a birthday card. J2 held the doors. 

On the other side of the rope snot-nosed children are squealing, screaming, throwing tantrums and spreading germs. If the mother's are not twerking while dressed to attract their next baby daddy then they are worn with exhaustion, squealing, screaming, slinging threats, or throwing their own tantrums. At the cash register is a line 10 men deep. They all have looks of frustration painted dually with relief flickering across their faces. The frustration derives from the length of the line to order food for their ravenous families and the relief is from not being on the gaming floor with those same families. 

The doorman stands behind the hooked rope, "Are you here for a birthday party?"

With a twinkle in his eye J2 quips, "No. We come here for date night."

Deadpan stare, "Are you going to be leaving with a child you did not bring with you tonight?"

"Not tonight, we don't plan on it," J2 laughs. 

The doorman/bouncer is not amused. J2's comment implies that not tonight, but in the future he plans on leaving with a child. 

I laugh a little too hard at J2's comment. 

Our entrance into this very non-exclusive Chuck E Cheese is dangling like a carrot in front of our eyes. Our invitation is dangerously close to being revoked. 

I quickly wipe the smile off of my face, "We are here for Linus Conway's birthday and we don't have* any children."

She clicks the rope open and we gain entrance into Chuck E Cheese, which is a doorway into the nine gates of hell. 

*Although J2 does have three children, The Little Rottens; he and I have not mingled our DNA to make joint children. There are no future plans for commingled DNA. 

Friends, Can You Have Them?

I stop at Kmart after class. I know that's creepy but they always have super cute tights. And because I am practically the only one in the store I like to pretend I am famous and they have shut the store down for me to shop in privacy. 

I put my tights and leggings on the conveyor belt not really paying attention to the employee making his purchases in front of me. He walks back past me, taking his purchases back into the store. I check out, walk all the way back to the exit. I buzzed on the way in so before I even crossed the threshold to leave I warn the same old lady greeter, "I'm gonna set off the alarms."

"Come on through."

Something in my bag sends the alarms buzzing again. 

"I'm going to need to examine your receipt."

I pull my giant wallet, full only of Christmas shopping receipts, out of my purse. She takes a look at the folded paper. She makes her secret "it's okay she actually purchased the stuff in her bag" Kmart mark. 

I'm wrestling to jamb this wallet back into my shifting bag while my camera bag in digging into my skin around my neck, and holding the weak, plastic Kmart bag is wiggling back and forth. 

I turn in to the breezeway to go. There looking at the claw game is the employee who made his purchase before I did. He looks in my direction like he has been waiting for me. 

"Excuse me?"

I smile at him.

"I just have to tell you how beautiful you are."

"Thank you."

"I bet you hear that all of the time. Do you hear it often?"

I blush because I do hear it often. However, I don't want to sound conceited, "I don't hear it as often as I'd like to," and that is the truth. 

By this point he and I have switched places. I am trying to get out to my car and he is standing just inside the automated sliding doors, "Do you have friends?"

"Yes, but all of my friend are taken."

He raises his voice, "No. I said, 'Can you have a friend?'"

With a deer in headlights look on my face I shrug my shoulders. Then I start laughing, this young boy thinks he is Biz Markie! I momentarily stop laughing. I wonder if he even knows who is Biz Markie? Ah, hell! Biz Markie is funny to me!