I walk into the TV room to put my art supplies in my suitcase.
me: oh my god. I have to take a picture of that.
I walk out of the room. and walk back in with my phone a few seconds later.
me: *takes picture* How did I travel for two months with this tiny suitcase?
AuntMurble: AMAZING PLANNING! AMAZING. AMAZING PLANNING!!!
me: thanks. (it actually involved a lot of moaning and crying on the floor of many a tumblroo’s home. shipping stuff home. and some planning. I ALWAYS HAVE A PLAN. )
my fabric order arrived in a long skinny box taller than me.
AuntMurble: your package is here.
me: okay, thanks!
AuntMurble: I don’t think this is your shoes, I’m guessing it’s a tent!
me: it’s both. It’s a very large shoe. I’m going to fill it with kids. I’m all set.
AuntMurble: YEAH YOU ARE!
Erin Heather asked me if Outlander was ~too steamy~ to watch with, like, a mom type person. So, I walked her through the first five episodes in about 60 (not so steamy. misty maybe.) steamy seconds.
Last night I sent my dad a text asking him if he wanted to go to a movie with me and help me run some errands.
today we have three conversations about the movie I very clearly want to see.
dad: I don’t know what that is.
me: it’s the one with Tom Hardy, James Gandolfini, and Noomi Rapace.
me: it’s from a short story by Dennis Lehane called Animal Rescue…
me: it has a cute puppy.
dad: WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?
I read him the description of the film.
we finish my errands, which is such a relief.
Me: hmmm. We have time to either eat or go to the movie…and you don’t seem excited about the movie.
dad: It’s not that I’m not excited. I …just…don’t know.
me: (THAT’S THE ACTUAL FUCKING DEFINITION OF NOT BEING EXCITED) I’ll go to the movie by myself.
dad: *overly dramatic faux sympathetic noises* AWWWW!
me: It’s not like that. I like going to movies by myself. I might prefer it in this case.
the food was really delicious and WHATEVER DAD, I DIDN’T WANT TO GO TO A TOM HARDY MOVIE WITH YOU ANYWAY!
AuntMurble: everything is displayed so nicely!
Me: yes. I rearrange things every few minutes to keep things fresh. ( this is a joke. We’ve only had one person at the sale since the morning rush. I’m rearranging things to keep warm)
AuntMurble: you should be in retail!
Me: you stop that right now.
OldFamilyFriend: well here’s an idea- don’t take nudes of yourself!
Me: no. I’m sorry. But NO. People are entitled to live their lives.
AuntMurble: there’s a right to privacy there.
Me: they need to find who did that and charge them with sexual assault.
AuntMurble: they do.
as I’m walking out of the room
AuntMurble: I don’t have a Hook Knife, do I?
me: *walks back into room* What’s a hook knife? describe it.
AuntMurble: oh, I don’t know. I was just told to bring a hook knife if I had one.
me: I’ll google it. I’ll grab your hammer and anything that looks like a hook knife.
… 10 seconds later …
me: this isn’t a hook knife but it’s the closest thing I could find in my 10 second search of your tools.
AuntMurble: no. that’s a tack puller.
me: *hook knife eyes*
(I walk away so I don’t hook knife her. and when I’m safely upstairs I say)
AuntMurble: it cost $24 to fix the car!
me: cool. good thing you waited, so you could save up!
AuntMurble: yes. and I had to give myself some time to worry about it.
me: yeah, months.
AuntMurble: yes, about exactly two months. Now I know what that sound is, if it ever happens again.
me: you’re going to start identifying weird car sounds as a hobby. okay.