Then there was the time that I was about to walk into one of those hoity-toity stores, you know the kind - the ones with the insanely priced shoes, perfectly coiffed salespeople, and the clothes that only go up to a size 8 because people who are stylish and able to afford nice stuff should not be fluffy. I was about to walk in and my baby said, "hode zhu mommy" which means "hold you mommy" in D-speak (which actually means, "these shoes are like two sizes two small and are killing my tiny feet so would you please pick me up and carry me because you love me as a person more than as an adorable model for overpriced baby clothes that may or may not fit appropriately"). So I leaned over to pick her up, and was looking at her as I swung her onto my hip, and my foot caught the inch and a half of concrete that was cracked and uneven beneath my feet, and we went flying. Like slow motion, "blaaaaaaaaaaaaabgh", across the pebbled sidewalk, purse sailing, went flying. And the thing is, the time when I went flying, I was holding my adorable little twenty-eight pound, two and a half year old nugget and was falling straight to the ground on top of her. Her going head first into the concrete of course. Needless to say, I am apparently a ninja in training because somehow I managed to throw my hands and arms around her while projecting my body away from her so that she walked away with nothing really wrong except a scratched elbow and a deathly fear of ever being carried by her mother again. I on the other hand currently have a scratched up forearm, gashes in what I think may be a sprained hand/wrist situation, and a gaping, bloody rip in my only, best, and favorite pair of blue jeans. It was super awesome. And by awesome I mean awful. And deathly embarrassing. That's all I could think about was Carrie from Sex and the City the time that she was shopping in Paris and went flying in the Chanel store. Except I did not then proceed to max out my credit card. I instead bought one pair of Tiny Toms and limped away.
Then there was the time on the same day as the day I went flying while holding my baby, that I was pulling into a parking lot of a store to buy a new pair of jeans, and a policeman turned his lights on and followed me. Turns out I have not bought a new car tag since November of 2011. Turns out I am a disorganized hot mess. Because it had already been sort-of a rough day, and because it was rainy, and because my arm was hurting, and because it's better than crying, I started laughing. And I could not stop. I laughed so hard that I couldn't breath and I had tears pouring down my face. That poor policeman thought he had pulled over a woman on the verge. I'm not sure what on the verge of per say. But definitely, he was sure I was about to loose it. So when he walked back to my vehicle and said "maam, today I am only going to give you a warning ticket" and then I reached out my hands and said "can I kiss you? on the face?" I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when he didn't even crack a smile and replied, "no maam. You can't". Then I definitely shouldn't have been shocked when I then asked if he would take a picture with me for my blog and he said, "no. no maam. we can't.".
Then there was the time that I decided God doesn't want me to buy expensive shoes even if I am an aspiring ninja and I probably shouldn't make policemen think I'm insane. Then I came home and ate two Cadbury eggs. The end.
An entirely true story,
Cassie
Then there was the time on the same day as the day I went flying while holding my baby, that I was pulling into a parking lot of a store to buy a new pair of jeans, and a policeman turned his lights on and followed me. Turns out I have not bought a new car tag since November of 2011. Turns out I am a disorganized hot mess. Because it had already been sort-of a rough day, and because it was rainy, and because my arm was hurting, and because it's better than crying, I started laughing. And I could not stop. I laughed so hard that I couldn't breath and I had tears pouring down my face. That poor policeman thought he had pulled over a woman on the verge. I'm not sure what on the verge of per say. But definitely, he was sure I was about to loose it. So when he walked back to my vehicle and said "maam, today I am only going to give you a warning ticket" and then I reached out my hands and said "can I kiss you? on the face?" I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when he didn't even crack a smile and replied, "no maam. You can't". Then I definitely shouldn't have been shocked when I then asked if he would take a picture with me for my blog and he said, "no. no maam. we can't.".
Then there was the time that I decided God doesn't want me to buy expensive shoes even if I am an aspiring ninja and I probably shouldn't make policemen think I'm insane. Then I came home and ate two Cadbury eggs. The end.
An entirely true story,
Cassie
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