I went to Publix yesterday because I needed to pick up a few groceries (“No, really, Robyn! You don’t say! What a fascinating reason to go to the grocery store!”). In front of Publix, there was a wrought-iron table and chairs. I think they were selling that kind of furniture for a while and were down to just the one table.
As I headed from my car to the store, I noticed that there was a man sitting at the table, all kicked back and relaxing. What caught my eye, though, was that he was wearing a purple t-shirt with white letters on the front. Fred has a purple t-shirt with white letters on the front – I think it’s his “Does it look like I care?” t-shirt. Fred likes the snarky t-shirts, if I haven’t mentioned.
In the interest of full disclosure, I also like the snarky t-shirts. Please admire the latest addition to my collection:
So it became, for some reason, very important to me to find out if it was, indeed, the same t-shirt that Fred possesses, but I didn’t want Mr. Kicking-Back-and-Relaxing to think I was staring at him or anything. I’d walk a few steps and glance over at him, then repeat it. That went well for a brief amount of time, but as I approached the building, I lost track of myself and eventually realized I’d been staring at him. I glanced away, and a moment later he said “Hello.”
“Hi!” I said, all perky-like, and smiled.
“I’m at Publix,” he said.
Which is when I realized he was on his cell phone and melted into the ground in a puddle of embarrassment.
(I never was able to tell if it was the same t-shirt or not.)
I happened to read Swistle’s Baby Names over the weekend, specifically this post. I guess, after reading the comments, that I was one of the lucky ones in that no one objected what I decided to name the spud – though I’m pretty sure my mother lobbied for “Molly” at some point or another.
The spud’s real name is Danielle, for those of you who don’t know. Early on in the pregnancy I decided on Jessica and the spud’s father was okay with that (he was pretty easygoing on the subject). Then, not long before she was born, I heard or read the name Danielle somewhere and immediately changed my mind. Of course, I don’t think there’s anything TO object to in the name Danielle, but you never know. I don’t even remember what I was going to name her if she was a boy – possible Jeffrey. I liked Christopher, but my oldest brother had already used that. Actually, I think we’re a family of pretty good, solid names. Chris, Danielle, Brian, Mireya, Jeff (and Jordan for my great-nephew). The only slightly unusual name is Mireya, but even though I had never heard the name before (Spanish I think?) I thought (and still think) it was pretty.
(Though it is occasionally mispronounced as “Mariah.”)
Back before Fred and I decided we didn’t want to have any children together, we decided on the names Samantha Jayne for a girl and Seth Forrest for a boy. I still like those.
Anyway, before I went off on a tangent, all I meant to say is this: I’m pretty sure I’ll be naming a kitten “Everett Peppers” in the future, because I REALLY like that name for a kitten. Is that weird? If I get a litter of boy kittens, I’ll probably name his brothers “Henry Peppers” and “Waldo Peppers.” The Peppers Gang!
You have been warned.
Cilantro (left) and Cori. Sweet snugglin’ sisters.
Ordinarily, Clove would be there with them, but she must have wandered off. Probably harassing poor Maggie.
Now Cori’s on the left and Cilantro’s on the right. They sure do like to move around.
There’s Clove!
Grumpy are we, Clove? Don’t like Cilantro’s tail over your face?
Pile of McMaos.
Such a happy, happy boy.
I’m seeing all three Spice Girls, but only half the McMaos. Why, it’s practically a vacation for Maggie!
Cillian (I think) on the left, Cilantro on the right.
“MY stump.”
Previously
2010: Look, when you’re woken up at 4 am by a screaming little kitten wanting to be let OUT of the horror that is a room fully stocked with food, water, and all the toys he could ever possibly want, I think a nap on the couch is warranted.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: “Hey! I’m not a complete idiot. Of course I know who Vernon Jordan is!”
2006: It was the weirdest hyper-real instant of cognitive dissonance I have ever experienced in my life.
2005: “Oh, look a finger! I feel so relaxed and unfrightened now…”
2004: Then I sang “Iiiiiiiiiiii am the Stuuuuuuuuump of Constant Sorrowwwwwwwwww!”, which amused Fred to no end.
2003: No entry.
2002: Readers, if you love me, you will never, NEVER allow someone you don’t know who isn’t a cop (ask for identification, and LOOK at it, don’t just glance at it) inside your home when you’re alone.
2001: No entry.
2000: Black widow. Lovely.