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Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Painting Renee’s toenails is mostly a venture in futility. All her toes crisscross each other, so unless we leave them in the egg-carton/toe separator thingy for 30 minutes, they immediately obliterate the orange surface of one another. The resulting gummy wound makes it look as though Emma had the brush in her little paws to do the job.

We’re at the pool now. It’s about 85 outside. But the day after some dinner, dancing and a drag show, nursing bad knees all around and feeling overly warm, overly cranky and substantially hungover, we’re just kind of sitting here. I brought a book – and have passed it to her because she couldn’t think of anything to write. We dipped our toes in, and remarkably, no one drowned.

I think we have committed to the fact that she is high-maintenance. I am moody and obstinate. There is a difference.

There’s a guy here with like, four kids. All some hue of redhead. There’s also a large gaggle of 20-somethings across the pool campus. You can practically feel the swagger. Most of them are unattractive, even in their bikinis. My woman is wearing the largest sunglasses I’ve ever seen. Well, that someone would wear for real, and not for a costume in a Las Vegas comedy act. And a blue ball cap and orange shorts. And I find her to be the most stunning creature …ever. Just so you know, her orange toes match her shorts. We speculate about the hot tub potential of this establishment. She watched a family head that way, but we’re both too lazy to go see for ourselves. It’s probably too hot for a dip in a hot tub right now anyway. Without being wet, this little adventure is much like suffering.

Church this morning was a lot like camp. We got up early, got all our stuff together, then changed our mind after seeing the bear. I was panicky because of the drive into downtown FW and then she got panicky because our seats were the last, and I mean the highest, lastest, farthest awayest seats in the entire place. By the time we climbed the stairs to find the seats we were uncomfortable, achy and frazzled, so when she took one look down – straight down – to see part of the ant show on stage, it was all over. So we gathered our respective phobias and found the location of the Agape church. It was too late to attend, but at least we knew where it was and how to get there. And approximately how long it takes to drive out in the middle of BFE. We need to make sure we leave a solid 45 minutes before church begins next week so we make it on time. She’s bad with directions, I’m bad with directions and time, amanda’s bad with church all around. This should be fun.

1 comment:

Brenda said...

Ok you people crack me up. So what is this Agape church? I keep asking and get no answer. Is is a church that does not allow freaks and you can't stand to keep me out? (oh wait then you couldn't go either)