Possumblog

Birthday Fun!

The top was tried on and modelled and looked very fetching (although slightly big around the middle section) and I was almost home free until...

"Hmm."

"What?"

"There's something on here. See?"

::sigh::

Yep--very faint, but in the right light, slightly less faint--a series of small, whitish drops. It looked like it could have been yogurt or some other dairy product that leaves a tell-tale bit of bone-building calcium behind no matter how much you blot it and clean it before hanging it back up on the rack and quickly leaving the store.

Grr.

But, that was Thursday night. I left the box and the receipt on the ironing board in the kitchen so I wouldn't forget it Friday so I could take it back and exchange it.

And forgot it on Friday.

BUT I GOT IT TODAY!

And took it back and begged the cute squishy girl to let me exchange it. Why beg? Because somewhere between the time I left the box and receipt on the ironing board, and the time that I finally got home Friday evening, box and receipt had been moved by various family members. Thus guaranteeing the absolute disappearance of the receipt.

Thank heavens the store is pretty nice about returns, and since the squishy girl remembered me, it was less of a problem than it might otherwise have been.

Except, well, they didn't have any more of the style I got.

And the one that was similar, except with short sleeves, and in a slightly lighter shade of purple? Too big.

::sigh::

I just had them credit the cost back to her credit card.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart! This credit slip is just for you!

The ice cream cake was universally praised, though, so I guess it wasn't all bad.

AS FOR THE OTHER BIRTHDAY FUN--one of Cat's little friends turned 9 (I guess) and her parents had a party for a few of them over at a place called Club Libby Lu in the Proffit's store at the Galleria. Being that I am an old, unhip, skinflintish, manly male man, I had never heard of such a place or thing, and so had little idea what she would look like when she got back.

It was, to put it delicately, quite surprising--hair done up in the sort of tangled, braided ponytailed mess favored by the likes of Britney Aguilera (or Christina Spears), feathered plastic tiara, wraparound pink sunglasses, sparkly stick-on facial stars, bright pink nail polish. Quite the fashion plate, she was. "I'm a Drama Queen, Dad!"

Yeah, well, tell me something new. At least she's still at the age where it's all in jest, and done without guile or bile. Anyway, she was quite the little hotsy-totsy thing. Even moreso when she got up and went to church with her hair all still done up that way.

Sorta.

See, she has the sort of hair that does not predispose itself to straightness or kemptness. The only time it's really nice and neat is right after she washes it and it's brushed through with a paddle brush. Five minutes after that, she has a wild tangle of kinky curly curls all over. Sleeping on it makes it much more wooly and underbrushlike. Having all sorts of competing and clashing twists and braids and loops from one side to the other and THEN sleeping on it makes it even more of a study in randomness.

But, by gum, she was so proud of her Drama Queen hair, she was bound and determined to go show everyone at church. We managed to get it somewhat less disorganized, but she still had a headful of fuzz all over that indicated either a night of hard partying at the Golden Globes after-party, or a total lack of regard for the finer details of hair styling.

She was quite the conversation piece.

She finally got tired of all the bobby pins and stuff and took it down Sunday night before evening worship. She kept those pink glasses and stars on, though.

The public comes to expect certain things, you know.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at January 30, 2006 01:36 PM