Y'all, this has been a week. I don't even know where to start. I think I'm just going to give you a little play-by-play of the goings-on around here lately.
Let's start with last Saturday because that was a great day. In the morning, Cody and I headed over to this girl's open house. She graduated from high school AND college last week, and I couldn't be more proud of her. I've watched her grow up from the time she was a baby, and she's got my heart. I love you, Grace!
After the open house, I headed out to the beach with these two beauties. We had quite the time trying to find a place to park since we got there after lunch (read: peak beach hours), but after we finally got a spot, the rest of the day was paradise. Understand something, I am a beach baby to my core. I'm pretty sure saltwater runs through my veins. I cannot think of anything better than laying out under the sun on beautiful white sand, listening to the ocean and taking in the scent of sunscreen. It. Is. My. Happy. Place. And the Lord knew I was gonna need a good weekend before the week I've had. But let's not get ahead of the story.
When we left the beach, we hit up a Ross, and I found some fun new dresses, then we went to a Moe's for dinner. Yum! I came home to this beautiful bouquet of flowers from my husband.
I mean really, this was like, the perfect day.
So that was my Saturday.
Sunday was also a great day. I wore one of my pretty new dresses to church. The service was excellent, per usual. We picked up some Boston Market for lunch and took it over to my parents' house where we celebrated my mother who is the loveliest and the best, in case you haven't heard. Seriously. She gave me the sweetest card and a fun new book which I will be talking about on the blog next week so keep an eye out for that.
When everyone there was ready to go down for the count, we trekked out to my mommy-in-law's house to celebrate her and spent the rest of the day by the pool, grilling for dinner, and having a wonderful time together like we always do.
I have the best moms.
Then Monday came. Monday really wasn't that bad. Cody and I planned to chill at home, and I was excited to spend the day doing laundry. I'm not even kidding. My washing machine had been in pieces for an entire week, and the laundry was taking over my house. I was dying to tackle it, and my awesome husband had gotten the parts and fixed the washer over the weekend. So I threw the first huge load in, it washed like a dream, I got it all in the dryer, adjusted the dryer settings and turned the dial to start it up. Nothing. I fiddled with all the knobs, made sure the dryer door was closed all the way, turned the starter again and....nada. Imagine my frustration. I'm sitting here with a massive load of wet clothes already in the dryer and at least three more enormous loads I wanted to do, and IT'S NOT WORKING. So I go in, tell Cody, and he, like the amazing man he is, stops everything he's doing to go check it out. A trip to Lowe's and a couple hours later, he's got it working again, and my sanity is back. Have I mentioned that he is the best?
Enter Tuesday. Y'all. If you are already looking at that picture thinking, "What the heck?!" you don't even know. It started out like any other day. Cody left for work a little after six. I got up an hour or two later and resumed the war on laundry. Got the kitchen clean, worked on finishing all my Bible study homework in preparation for Bible study that evening, watched an episode of Dancing With The Stars, wrote Wednesday's blog post, and was having a pretty productive day. Around 4:30 I started working on dinner and finally pulled the last load of laundry out of the dryer, hallelujah! I got dinner into the oven and went back into the bedroom to get that last load put away. Colonel followed me into the room and was looking a little restless. I knew he needed to go outside, but I really wanted to get that last load put away before I took him out. Mistake. He popped a squat and started peeing right there on the carpet. The one room in the house that has carpet. I yelled, shoved my feet into my boots, and immediately herded him outside. We briskly walked our front circle, he finished his business, and I headed back for the door. It was locked. Did I mention that I hadn't changed out of my pajamas all day?! Is the photo starting to make sense? Of course I wasn't wearing one of Cody's big tees with some baggy pajama pants. I was wearing my cute little, paper thin, married-lady pj's with BOOTS! I quickly ran around to the back door: locked. Our bedroom sliding doors: locked. Windows: locked down. Even the laundry room door which wouldn't accomplish anything because I can't even get into the house that way anyway: LOCKED. Um...I was mortified. Cell phone still inside. No hide-a-key anywhere. Dinner is in the oven, and there is dog pee drying permanently into my bedroom carpet, y'all. What am I supposed to do?! No way was I traipsing down to the church or to my parents' house in my sweet little getup. No. Way. But I was slightly concerned that while I was sitting outside, my dinner would catch fire and the whole house would burn down. Oy. So I'm sitting out in one of our camp chairs in my sexy pj's and boots like the Polk County redneck that I am, praying for a miracle. To my horror, my neighbor comes outside and starts rooting around in his little shed that is jutted right up to our fence a few feet away from where I'm sitting. At that moment, I was wishing on every holy thing that I could just disappear. And of course, Colonel, friendly little lover that he is, runs right up to him and starts barking and jumping excitedly. Have I mentioned that I've never met this neighbor? Still concerned about my burning dinner inside, I work up the nerve to approach said neighbor and brilliantly say, "Oh Colonel, did you make a new friend?" That's right. I couldn't even bring myself to address him like a normal human being. I had to talk to my dog like the crazy weirdo that I am. The neighbor (who is a huge animal-lover as I quickly learned) had already gotten acquainted with my little mutt on a previous occasion, and I finally got the courage to ask, "I am so embarrassed, but I am locked out of my house and do you have a phone I could use?" My accommodating neighbor immediately agreed to go inside and get his cell phone for me to use. I call my mother, praying with everything in me that she will pick up her cotton-pickin' phone which she finally did on the last ring. I urge her to please drop everything and come get me into my house before it burns down, for the love, and then hand my neighbor back his cell phone. He then proceeds to chat it up with me like nothing in the world could possibly be out of the ordinary while I stood there red-faced with my arms tightly folded across my chest, apologizing profusely. Bless his heart. He really was so nice about it all. I don't know if I can ever face him again. My parents both showed up, shaking their heads in disbelief when they got a load of my outfit. My mom gets out of the car and walks up to me saying, "Well, look at you in your--" "Mom. I can't do this with you right now. Please unlock the door."
I can't even.
Fortunately, my dinner was salvageable.
Why even share this humiliating story with you, my little blog-followers? Because if I don't, my family will. I will never, NEVER live this one down. Later that night after I had shared my shame with my husband and we were getting into bed, he looks at me and says, "Baby, will you put your cute little jammies on for me? You wear them for the neighbors."
Low blow, babe. Low blow.
On Wednesday, an even more embarrassing, completely unrelated event happened to me in an entirely different county. I can't even talk about it yet. It's too soon. And that's about enough for today anyway. I hope you got a good laugh at my expense. Life is too short not to laugh at yourself. I hope your weekend is filled with lots more laughs, but not because you got caught outside in your unmentionables.
Anyone else care to share an embarrassing story in the comments? Please?