My Black Friday shopping trip did me well. I found lots of great bargains, and I stuck to my list. The worst store was Joann Fabrics, which had two lines--one for the cutting counter and one for the cashier. There were lots and lots of people out for the deals--I had no idea Pensacola had so many creative women. While waiting, I browsed, along with everyone else. I found myself getting stuck in the middles of aisles, with slow-moving/stopped women at either end. Near panic attack. I was joyously relieved when my cutting number was finally called. A young, hip-looking girl smiled smartly, back from her break, and proceeded to assist me at the cutting counter. She complimented my fabric choices, like a good fabric cutter does. I thought--ha! I got the fast one, the one who knows what she is doing with these electronic fabric receipt thingamajigs with all the technology that confuses most fabric cutter-people! She slowly and surely proved me wrong, I am sad to say. She ran into loads of problems with her techno-gadget-thingie, and had to ask her coworkers for advice numerous times. They inattentively and somewhat distractedly responded. I finally had my ticket in hand and was about to get Jan's fabric measured, when I noticed an error in her entry--she had only punched in 2 1/2 yards of my flannel instead of the 4 1/2 I had gotten. Even though it was a measly two bucks we're talking here, my conscience won out. So I very politely called her attention to it, and she debated me. (Insert internal roll of my eyes--I'm doing your store a favor, chick, don't question me; thank me!) Then she re-measured my fabric to make sure, and said, "Oh, you were right. I'll have to redo the ticket." I asked her if she couldn't just make a new ticket for 2 yards (since, you know, 2 + 2 1/2 = 4 1/2.) She didn't notice the feverish desperation in my eyes or the sweat on my forehead. She certainly didn't notice how extremely patient I was being. "No, you see, this ticket is WRONG," and she grabbed it, crumpled it, pitched it, and proceeded to re-enter all the information for the third time, having to go out onto the floor to find one bolt of fabric that had already been put back in its place. Meanwhile, my phone is ringing every 2-3 minutes. Jan wants to know when I'll be done, since she is holding a place in the cashier's line for me, and she is getting closer and closer to the end. Just 5 more minutes, I kept reassuring her, nearly in tears of panicky desperation and annoyance. Can't this girl just hand me over to someone who knows what she is doing?!
Fortunately, we all survived. Some of my fabric turned into a little red-n-white number for my kitchen. What a fun apron. Even pie crust answers to its siren call, and obeys my rolling pin's every move. Just kidding.
Here are some outtakes of Helen's 1 year shot. I didn't end up with anything.
This morning, I taught the 2s &3s at the 9:00 service at church. Since we had a lunch meeting after the 11:00 service, Jason brought the kids to the later one. While I was on the floor with 7 sweet toddlers, telling them the Christmas story with the manger scene--what a privilege!--Jason was at home, getting our kids ready. He got Owen in the tub, and left to dispose of a really nasty diaper. He told Helen to stay put. While he was out of sight distance, he heard a clunk, but no crying she made. Lo and behold, when he arrived back at the bathroom, here she was. Little stinker! The soap you see in the background has a tiny mouth-shaped piece gone from one corner, complete with little teeth marks. We haven't had a problem with her playing with the bar of soap since that bath, but we have seen bubbles in her diaper. Just kidding about that last one.