Bzzzzzz...

So. The Man dashed my dreams of creating a white denim Storytelling Skirt. *sigh* Being realistic is not always fun... but it is... realistic. what?? Anywaaayz, it was nice change to not feel like a crazy person last week because I bit off more than I could chew... or rather shove through my sewing machine without having to warp the space-time continuum.

This is what I wore to the potluck. I felt like a bumble bee... which I voiced to a friend. She disagreed; we had a good chuckle and both decided that YEAH, avoiding yellow and black horizontal striped across the widest part of one's body is indeed A Very Good Thing. I took my black wrap to combat over zealous air conditioning.

 Simplicity 2654, I added little waist tabs w/buttons

I brought a Cobb salad. Everyone liked it.

The End.

Oh wait! Not the end! The Cuban and I happily competed for the pleasure of being the one chosen to babysit Mr. Tiny Destructo while his momma ventured temporarily into a toddler-free zone... and I won! But not on my own merits... nooooo... it was only because of the cubs. He loves my cubs! I plan to bribe him next week with cookies and dinosaur stickers. I don't like Not Being the Favorite you know. After about five minutes of almost-four-year-old-boyness-tom-foolery... man! that kid is fast! The Cuban looked at me and said why did you volunteer to babysit??? what is wrong with you??? Simple answer: I'M STUPID. Her next comment: why did we fight over it??? why did I want to babysit him??? Simple answer: YOU'RE STUPID TOO. True story!!

Seriously though... Mr. Tiny Destructo has stolen, and I mean completely stolen, the cold black heart that beats shallowly within the chest of Mrs. Lyons.