I just spent about thirty seconds trying to wipe a crumb off of my lip and then I realized it wasn't a crumb. It was a freckle. I didn't even know you could get freckles on your lips but APPARENTLY you can. Or at least I can. Jealous? You shouldn't be. My face is an explosion of freckles right now. I'd show you, but I haven't put my Myrtle Beach pictures on my computer yet. Sorry.
Anyway, I'm back. We got back late last night, which means I'm tired and whiny today. Whinier than usual, even, which is pretty whiny. I called Joe earlier and was all, "I'm tiiiiiiired," until finally he said he was going to hang up and I should call back when I was an adult again. I'm afraid, though, that I'll never really be an adult, mwaahaahaa.
I don't know. I'm tiiiiiired! I couldn't sleep last night because, in an effort to stay awake until I got home, I drank a shitload of caffeine (truth: I got a drink from Starbucks just because I was bored and had a gift card). The reason I couldn't stay awake is because we went to the beach for four hours before flying home and being at the beach is hard! It's true! It's really warm and the sand is all hot and you get sand all over EVERYTHING, no matter how hard you try not to, and then you get in the ocean and the waves try to beat you up and steal your swimsuit. Plus also, you might have to save a little girl's life like I did one day. There I was, just sitting and relaxing and reading my book, when I looked over to the umbrella next to ours and saw a little girl clutching the umbrella stand, crying, and shifting from foot to foot.
I was all, "are you OK?" and she emphatically shook her head no. "Are you lost?" I asked and she replied, "My feet hurt!" so I motioned for her to come under our umbrella. I asked where her adult was and noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes so her feet were probably burning off of her body. Because that is how hot the sand was that day. TRUE STORY. Anyway. I picked her up and we went walking down the beach, looking for her particular blue umbrella in a sea of blue umbrellas. Luckily, a lady eventually ran up to us and claimed her, which was good because I was tempted to keep her. She was almost as cute as a puppy.
So maybe I am an adult, after all. Even though a stewardess on one of our flights asked if I was old enough to sit next to the emergency exit because she claims I look 12*. I blame the freckles.
*Just . . . what? That lady was crazypants.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I just wrote a huge comment about how it's awesome that you get taken for someone younger because in ten years you'll be all, what? I'm totally 26 and people will believe you and about how I get mistaken for 18 all the time and I hate it, blah blah, but your blog totally ate it and I don't feel like recapturing the magic of the earlier comment. Sigh. Life is hard.
Okay, that was totally me. I hate comment forms.
Aw, you saved a kid. You're a superhero. A 12-year-old superhero.
Also, did you tell Joe that you can't be expected to be an adult ever, because people keep mistaking you for a non-adult? That could help your cause.
Post a Comment