Sometimes the baby does not get returned to us in the same condition we dropped her off in.
Grandma doesn't beat Violet or anything, but sometimes she does decorate her. Violet has come home with fake tattoos and nail polish. Sometimes she has barrettes and things in her hair and toxic cheap plastic jewelry all over her. I never know what it's going to be.
Grandma also has a bizarre need to remove mildly soiled clothes from Violet's body. When she was potty training I always provided an extra set of clothes, but she's a pee-pee pro now and I forget that other clothing related disasters may befall her. Of course, my idea of a clothing disaster is much different from Grandma's. If odor and wetness are not involved, I say, shine it on until we get home.
Violet came back from her most recent evening with Grandma, dressed in a silky camisole that hasn't fit Grandma in a good ten years. What was the clothing catastrophe that made this ridiculous outfit necessary?
A little bit of stray macaroni & cheese down the front of her dress.
I'm wondering how much ill-fitting lingerie my mother-in-law is keeping just for this purpose. I'll let it go for now, but if Violet comes home dressed in a teddy with garter belts, I'll have to put my foot down.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Repackaged
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2:09 PM
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Labels: family life, grandparents, misadventure
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Terrible Secret
I don't like festivals! There, I said it. It's always hot. There is no shade. Everything is carnie food and water is $17 a bottle. Our local festivals are exclusively shopping experiences. The streets of any given festival town are simply lined with the same craft vendors selling faux country crap. I suppose if I were in the market for cement goose clothing and accessories, I would be excited for festival season. I am not.
This is where my guilt ramps up. My Grandparents are in town for Father's Day and the only thing my Aunt could think to do with them today was take them to a festival. You may have gleaned from my entries that I have a nearly three year old child and while she is generally pleasant and patient, she is not a gracious window shopper. My Grandmother also tends to wander and I end up spending the day on my cell phone trying to locate her in the chaos. Oh, and this particular festival is crazy popular, so you are shoulder to shoulder with the unwashed hippies. I'm a hippy too, but I prefer a real shower to the patchouli variety. So, this morning when I was supposed to be getting ready to go I was composing my excuse instead. I told them that Violet had a birthday party to go to and their initial response was, "So, you'll be driving separately?" The party location and the festival are in totally opposite directions and gas is $4 and still none of these things made my point for me. I had to blame Violet. I know that I am running into dangerous territory with this parental escape hatch, but I had no choice. I told them that Violet was in a mood and refusing to get dressed and eat and potty and generally obey any of my commands. I couldn't look at her while I said it. Hopefully, she wasn't listening. The fact is, I simply could not handle both of these activities in the same day and since Violet has been looking forward to this party since time began and my Grandparent's only announced their visit a week ago, the birthday party wins. Now, if only I could stop thinking about how I lied to my sweet, old grandparents and my long suffering Aunt, I might be able to enjoy my festival free day.
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12:20 PM
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Labels: family life, festivals, grandparents, lies