I am the world's oldest child. Not to be confused with this man-baby guy. I don't mean "child" in the sense that I like to draw on the wall and walk around with a mix of dried snot and milk on my face, but rather that I very much still identify myself as my mom and dad's child. I definitely don't identify myself as a grown woman who is about to have a child of her own (shit, this is getting deep for a Monday morning).
Like when I'm sick, the only person with a chance of making me feel better is my mom. Or like, the only place it REALLY feels like Christmas morning to me is at my parents' with my mom making her homemade coffee cake and my dad sitting in his recliner stuffing used wrapping paper into a black garbage bag like a human trash compactor. Or like, you know, let's say (hypothetically) that I still have my teddy bear. And Rosy chews his nose off. Although Jack would be standing by with his trusty needle and thread waiting to perform stuffed animal surgery, I'm sorry but that is
a job I'll only let my mom do.
My sista and I are going to visit my parents in Northern Wisconsin this coming weekend and I'm willy willy excited. We will play Bananagrams and Hearts and watch movies like Overboard and Mr. Mom have a fire going 24/7
and go to the town bar (where I'll have a NA beer that we like to call Busch Prego). We will also be sure to get our bums outdoors to snowshoe and tromp around in the woods. It is a winter wonderland up where they live and the snow is so pristine and white that it seriously looks like you're walking around in a storybook.
Jack and I did not leave the house all weekend. This is kind of embarrassing but I guess also kind of awesome considering how stressy our work-weeks are. Anyway, I'm a little stir crazy and these photos are getting me amped up for some fresh air with the fam.