is it just special for me?

Freaking awesome decision making got me where I am today.  Aww-haww-suh-hummm.

First, we went to the playground, the Bouncy Playground, which has an actual name, but who cares what that is because the Bouncy Playground has LOTS!!!! of BOUNCY!!!!! THINGS!!!! to BOUNCE!!!!! ON!!!!  Which, of course, is all very different from the sort of bouncing that has been going on at this local park.

Please.  Have a click and then come back.  It's a story that is fascinating the media.  I'll wait.

Classy, no?

Anyway, back to me.  I needed to get heavy cream and toilet paper, not to be used together, well, one as a result of the.... never mind.  So we had to go to Target.  Of course.  And we had to check the shoe section, because Miss O has no puddle boots, and it is a vast conspiracy to keep her from having puddle boots, and she is ESPECIALLY irked with the man at Tractor Supply who would not even look at her when she asked if he would order a pair of boots in her size, and blah blah blah every store we go in we have to LOOK FOR THE PUDDLE BOOTS!!!!!!!  And as it happened, God was smiling on us and lo, there were puddle boots, and BEHOLD! they were pretty light appley green with daisies on them and they WERE! THE! RIGHT! SIZE!

And also Elliott has no t-shirts.  I have no explanation for this, because the preceding boy-children all had actual shirts, but now there are none.  So I got two or four t-shirts for that guy.

And the trip. Went on, and on, and on.

I paid for our stuff.  I put the short people in the car.  I put the stuff in the car.  I put myself in the car.  I looked out the passenger window just as two cars stopped for pedestrians in the crosswalk.  And the man driving the second car PULLED OUT HIS NASAL ROTO-ROOTER AND WENT TO TOWN IN HIS RIGHT NOSTRIL.  At a stop sign.

The first car drove on, Mr. Rooter pulled up to the stop sign and took care of business in the other nostril.

It was worse than deja-vu.