are ewe calling me fat?
today we had a playdate. yep. the first one at our house. i know, i'm not one of those moms who are all into playdates and socializing and being all friendly to everyone. I mean, i want to, but it's just not in me.
anyway. Connor invited a friend over who was within walking distance (most of the moms walk to-from school, and if it's too far to walk, playdates just don't happen) and his mom said yes, and there was joy and rejoicing in the land.
had fun, made cookies, did homework, tra la la.
So, this friend is way into dragons. And he and Connor happen to have both been born in the chinese zodiac year of the dragon. I love sheep. I was born in the year of the sheep. (i bet you are all REALLY sick of hearing that, over and over again) This conversation ensues:
CONNOR: i bet the reason you are all soft and fluffy is because you were born in the year of the sheep.
ME: (at first being all, connor do not call your friend fat. that's not nice. and then before that thought can become words i realize that he is talking to ME) What?! I am not soft and fluffy! I am hard like a rock. ( I flex as I say this, and make growly noises)
CONNOR: let me see. so he walks over and pokes. me. in. the. side. with. his. fingers. and then he looks up at me. and then he gets this patronizing voice. you feel just like sheep's wool, mom.
GACK! did I post about the recent "I know that when you grow up, you start growing this way instead of this way." THOSE ways being "out" instead of "up"? Now, I realize that I complain about needing to lose 15 pounds, but hello! I am not fat! I am not "soft and fluffy"! I am NOT. GROWING. OUT! (well.... okay. I guess I kindof am. Now. Or at least, a few months from now. But whatever). And I'm like - Connor.... are you calling me fat?
and he laughs. hysterically.
no mom! of course you are not fat!
well just exactly is it that you are saying then?!
also need to clear the air - in this pretty pretty color blue - about my birthday cake. Craig wanted to make my birthday cake. He wanted to go out and get something wonderful and scrumptious. But I knew what I wanted and I didn't trust him to do it right.
But then I got all sick-feeling halfway through it and had to call for his help anyway and he totally came to the rescue and chopped chocolate and mixed, and stirred, and poured, and baked. My Hero.