There is one picture that sums up how I've been living lately. There's a story behind it, which I will tell you now.
One day I was walking down the stairs in my house and fell. Tumbled down tits over kettle, just like Eddie Murphy's Aunt Bunny. As I am not as light as gossamer angel's wings and fairy's breath, I made a whole lotta noise going down. My husband, the man with the absolute best taste in women-- clearly--, was sitting on the couch not five feet away from the stairs and heard my noisy and painful descent via my ass. He called out lovingly to me from the couch, "Be careful, Michele!" He didn't even take his hand out of his pants. He likes to watch TV Al Bundy style.
Let me reiterate so that this picture is clear in everyone's mind. As I crashed down the stairs, petticoats a-flying, my husband called out oh so very helpfully from the couch, "Be careful, Michele!"
To commemorate this occasion, my son's girl hung this placard on the soffit over the stairs.
Notice the cute little Michele stick figure doing a somersault down the stairs. That's my favorite part.
The thing is, this has been on the soffit over the stairs for months. I barely notice it anymore. That is, until this Memorial Day weekend when my son's work buddies came over for a barbecue. There were questions. Many questions. I hope this entry answers them all.
80's romance girl has purchased new business clothes. This includes a pink chiffon button down shirt with a big, floppy bow.