Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Zimbo nimbo

I haven't washed my hair in three days. We are in a drought right now. Since this has become a great excuse, I've found showering is an afterthought more than a given these days. I don't always take short showers, but when I do, I never shave my legs or wash my hair. Which also works well as a "Most Interesting Man in the World" meme.

Bonnie & Sarah, I have decided to stop plucking my grey hairs. You're welcome. The greatest part about these upstarts, is they are in the middle of the top of my head. I do not want a bald spot on my crown, but I also don't want a fluffy tuft of short grey feathers displayed in the forefront of my locks for the next 30 years.

Therefore, these interlopers will be occupying a premium spot in my otherwise velveteen doe locks until I begin to dye them. I'm not there yet. Anyway, if I'm going to start dying my hair, it's going to be a more interesting transition than brown. Perhaps kool-aid blue feathers will lend me some distinction. I dare say, this is a most interesting notion.

Yesterday was the best cub scout activity of all time. After creating a scale out of art supplies to weigh coins, we ate kettle corn and played Go Fish 10. This is Go Fish with face cards. You only use numbers except Aces equal 1 and the primary goal is matching two cards to equal 10. It's pretty fun.

It was not stressful and we had loads of good times. I tied with a scout for the first game with 8 matches and Charles won the second game. You cannot imagine the distraction potential of a bag of kettle corn.

We have been gifted 3 boxes of popcorn- due to a friend's move, and we brought a bag to share two weeks ago. That was the hour's only focal point for 4 boys at 7 pm. This week we learned our lesson and waited until the end to share the corn.

As a side note, this popcorn was not Popcornoplis, nor Emily popcorn. Therefore, I abstained. However, I have a dear friend who loves popcorn and now whenever I see it, I think of her. So now I've got all these Emily memory bags in my back closet. How's that for creepy?

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