This weekend was busy. Crazy and chaotic with a side of “ew”
at times. My Friday morning hint at this
arrived in the form of a ditzy drive-thru barista who forgot to hand me a straw
with my light coffee blended frothy goodness, that I didn’t realize until I
merged onto the freeway. Aghhh! Keeping with my attempt to make things more positive in
karma land, I kindly unstrapped my 1 yr old who at that point thought it was
time to get out for good, and walked inside to let them know that next time
they should consider passing out straws with their cold beverages.
Once we got to the bay area, we stopped in Orinda to grab a
house key from one of the best friends, Lea.
I threw her baby shower this weekend (thank you Dina!) and needed to
unload 206 tons of rubber duck paraphernalia while she was workin’ it up at her
company. I’d like to thank her bosses
for encouraging my portly state of being, by offering GiGi and I the best
milkshakes ever. We went with a little F’real
mint chip action and before I could get my camera out, my little ice cream
monster had already dove in, fist first, to the cup before her. I thought I would go with the flow and let
her feed herself, but in retrospect, I gave her a lot more hand-to-mouth credit
than I should have. We got ice cream
everywhere. Sticky hands, sticky table,
sticky mommy, sticky eyelids, sticky 5-foot radius…
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