Daddy is no dummy, so he suggested that Mama leave the house for a few hours today. Done and done. I called up Kyla to make sure that she was not dead from the stomach flu. She was not, and she was feeling better, so I headed over to her house. We decided a field trip was in order, and motored over to the Legacy Shopping Center (I'm not sure all of those capital letters are needed, but I feel certain that the Legacy people think that they are...). Coffee was procured, and Gabby B's was raided. I came up empty (but those damn shoes haunt me like a siren's song). Kyla found a top and a dress. Neither was 'needed', both were obtained :-)
... I just realized that a lot of my posts have been shopping-oriented lately. Please understand that this is not the norm. I am shopping and fashion impaired, but since I am also currently clothing impaired, shopping has been a necessity... a necessity that I am surprised to realize that I have (temporarily) enjoyed! I am looking forward to feeling less dowdy, less frumpy, less blah. The shopping updates should cease very soon - I'm out of birthday money, and Lily Ruth's college fund wasn't that big :-O
BACK TO THE STORY! We decided that pedicures were necessary, and wandered into Ann's Nails. We requested full pedicures and just polish for fingers. In the way that this usually happens, I was finished WAY before Ky, and was banished to the drying station for my sins. An eternity (several stories, a harrowing phone call/story from Kittyn - oh, and then Ky called me Minnie Driver!?) later, Kyla was done and was sent over to join me.
Now, for those not 'in the know', when you finish a pedicure, they put your flip flops back on for you, and pull your pant legs down from knee level (where they resided during your treatment) to their intended position. It just so happened that Kyla was wearing a pair of 'skinny' khakis. Also, these particular pants have a cute, large cuff and are worn rolled slightly above the ankle - adorable. This translated into hilarity when her nail technician attempted to pull them back down over her calf. Apparently, they were stuck. A tussle ensued. Kyla protests 'just leave them - I'll be fine'. But the technician is adamant. Reinforcements are called in. Kyla is asked to stand - no, sit - no, stand - no, sit. Two ladies are laboring to return these pants to the ankle. It went a little bit like this:
then it went a bit like this:
and then it went on FOREVER! Kyla and I were (once again) laughing, snorting and sputtering (I wish I could have gotten a closer picture of her face. Ky's always pretty, but when she laughs, she's GORGEOUS, and we were laughing a LOT) in the middle of a public place. She kept insisting that she was capable of fixing her own pant legs, but she did have wet fingernails, and these ladies now considered it their sworn duty to see this through. Seriously, ya'll It took all day, but the pant legs were subdued. In the end, their stylish cuff was unrolled, and their fabric was a bit more wrinkled than usual, but there they were - NOT at Kyla's knee. Maybe the nail techs will tell the story of 'the crazy white girls with their stupid trendy pants who laughed like hyenas' over dinner tonight. Maybe their version will crack them up as much as our version did us! Also, this story is funnier with the physical re-enactment, so get one of us to tell it to you in person ;-)
Good times. Oh, and then, when I got home, this was waiting for me:
tooooooooooooooo cute, Ya'll! Hope your weekend had some silliness!
No comments:
Post a Comment