The day started off normal enough. I got woken up to Brighton's fingernails trying to pull off my eyelids. I was in the middle of a KILLER dream that I was SOOO going to write into a movie as soon as I finished dreaming it, so I hurriedly stuck Brighton on my boob and squished my eyes shut to fall back asleep. And the dream KEPT being awesome... right up until the time I opened my eyes and forgot EVERYTHING. UGH. I'll NEVER be a famous writer! UNLESS I can get someone to put me under hypnosis and I can give a play by play of my crazy dreams on tape. BUT they probably only make sense when I'm unconscious, anyway. Maybe NOT remembering is my brain's coping mechanism to nicely keep me from being HIGHLY disappointed with my unconscious creativity.
Anyway- I was laying awake... half-way.. when Brooklyn, who wasn't supposed to be at my house, climbed into my bed and tackled me. She'd stayed the night with her Mia and Pi Paw. Starling and I got to take a REAL DATE NIGHT! We ate Chinese and I wore HIGH hills, we went shopping CHILDLESS, we had alone time, we spent almost the whole time taking pictures of each other being irrevocably re-DONK-ulous, trying to one up each other with our new cell phones. We went GUN shopping... yeh. Really. We FINALLY get ALONE time and Starling takes me GUN shopping. He's lucky he didn't let me handle a LOADED gun.
I got up, and after finding my contacts, was able to SEE my cute little family. I didn't even SHOWER, just got dressed and rode into town with my mom and kiddos. We did the little family lunch at The Bottling Company. Since my Dad and Uncles and cousins have put so much work into it, I'll give it a little PLUG- YUMMAY FOOD!! I had the BOCO burger which I HIGHLY recommend! (I loaded it down with mayo and I recommend that, too). AND the brownie and ice cream dessert is finger lickin SMACK-TASTIC!
Okay- now that I'm HUNGRY- I'll MOVE ON. So after Brooklyn gave me an overview of EACH guitar (and I think there are at least 6 or 7), the color, the size, the location, the location in relation to the OTHER guitars... AND a NOT so brief description of everything ELSE she saw, we left stuffed like a Thanksgiving Turkey. We headed on over to the BCH and Company. (The Old Roses/ New Hudson's place). My mom said they had some killer cute jacket thingies. WELL RIGHT next door to that is Pet Palace. I let Brooklyn look at the animals every time we are on that side of town. She loves to pet the "Bunnie Pigs" (guinnie pigs), the rabbits, look-and-run from the snakes, watch the birds... And so it was no big deal to let her run take a look before we went shopping.
Brooklyn skipped along passed all the fish to where all the real animals are located. (Real= HOLDABLE and FLUFFY). She poked her head up to the rabbit cage.
NOW, if you haven't read my previous blog about the demise of our little bunny Cleo... basically- we got her, loved her, random cat attacked her when I let her play outside for a minute, and she later died from internal bleeding. It was AWFUL terrible and I said NO more BUNNIES because "I" (not BROOKLYN) sobbed for like 24 hours after watching that bunny's last twitchings before she died.
We've been back to Pet Palace MANY times since Cleo passed on and Brooklyn always holds the bunnies and says, "Yeah... Cleo went to live with Hebenly FA-THER and He made her feel better." And she NEVER wants one of the bunnies. (WHICH is GOOD because they are usually those Velveteen rabbits that like to kick and I'm PRETTY sure they cross breed those things with DONKEYS).
I looked into the rabbit thing, too, and saw the most ADORABLE little bunny EVER, and said, "AWE! That little bunny is SOOO CUTE!!" And Brooklyn's eyes landed on it at the SAME time. "OH!! MOMMY!! CLEO is BACK!! OH CLEO!! MOMMY give me CLEO!!" I scooped up the little bunny that IS the same breed (Loppy)as Cleo, but not really the same coloring, and let Brooklyn hold it. "Umm... this isn't Cleo, honey..." I started, but Brooklyn wasn't listening. "Oh CLEO! I'm so glad we got you back! You went to see Hebenly FA-THER! And He made you ALL BETTER!" And she was hugging it up to her FACE and she was KISSING it... "Mommy! I'm so happy! And Cleo can come home with me and live in our laundry room again!" And then she looked up at me with ALL the joy a little TWO year old can have after finding her long, lost friend, "Mommy! Did Jesus make Cleo All BETTER!?" It wasn't really a question. BUT WHAT was I supposed to SAY!??
"Err... Uh..." I paused. I racked my brain with explanations. I could explain how LOTS of bunnies LOOK like Cleo but actually AREN'T Cleo... its called a BREED of bunny. I could tell her how Cleo DIED and DEAD things can't come back to LIFE. I could point out that THIS rabbit isn't GRAY like CLEO and really looks NOTHING like her deceased rabbit...
I opened my mouth to explain....."Yep. He SURE DID! I'll get a box."
I asked the worker dude if Cleo was a girl or a boy. A girl, he told me. Phew. Good. I wasn't sure how I would explain how Cleo went to live with Jesus and came back a BOY. SOOO when I got home I got to face STARLING. I told him... "I got you an early Christmas PRESENT!! Here. Open it." And I handed him the box. He opened it. His eyes closed and he sort of gulped air like a fish that's been chunked on the boat floor with no water. He looked at me like he MIGHT ask WHY the heck I got ANOTHER rabbit when I JUST told him I could NEVER live through another animal death. I silently told him through telepathic ways that I would NEVER let this one outside. It would live happily ever after in our laundry room. But that wasn't good enough. I could tell he was going to argue with me so I just laid it all out for him. "Brooklyn thinks its HER rabbit!" And it was all good in the hood.
See. Starling loves Brooklyn, too. And she has us wrapped. And I don't think we could EVER tell her NO if she was truly sincere about wanting something. (I don't mean the 2 year old tantrum- I want a sucker- want. We actually ENJOY telling her NO when she's being a terd. I'm talking about the doe eyes. The grin that stretches from one dimple to the other. The little bounce of excitement that makes her little curls twirl around her giddy face. The little hands clasped together as she begs so angelically... strategic, "PUH-LEEEEEZE!!"). Therefore I have banned myself from taking her ANYWHERE where she may encounter attachments. I may be nabbing monkeys from zoo's or something. Kidnapping cute little boys she's befriended at Chic Filet. Seriously. I'd do crazy things for my child. For example, Kaylee Humphreys and her little brothers stayed with us for a few days. Brooklyn LOOOVED them staying here. When Brooklyn woke up and they were gone she said, "BUT MOMMY! I want my KAYLEE BA-ACK!!" And I had to physically restrain myself from driving her to Kaylee's house. AND you know what Starling and my conversation for the NEXT three DAYS was???
"SOoOo what do you think about Foster Caring a teenager and some play mates for Brooklyn??" Like- we are DILUSIONALLY obsessed with making our child happy. We have a bunny living in our LAUNDRY room for BROOKLYN's SAKE!! And do not EVEN get me started on BRIGHTON. If Brooklyn has us wrapped, I don't want to begin to THINK of Brighton's charisma... Starling is going to have our back yard dug into a giant FORT with trap doors and paint ball targets everywhere. And probably a tennis court in the front yard. And I'm going to be yanking my hair out saying, "BUT- BUT..." And Brighton is going to be grinning and his little eyes are going to be disappearing behind his humongously fat cheeks, and my heart is going to melt... "OKAY, Brighton... If it makes you happy...." AHHH!! That is EXACTLY why kids stop being cute when they turn sassy. So parents have no problem telling them NO. So I just need to keep it together for a LITTLE bit longer...
In the MEAN time... Santa better stay away from my kids. I don't want him asking them ANYTHING! We're liable to end up with an INDOOR PONY!!
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