Tuesday, October 15, 2013

I Was a Fun Kid!

Just kidding, I wasn't fun. I was a sensitive child. Really sensitive. I mean, like, so sensitive that looking back I wonder if I had some sort of childhood psychosis. I have no idea why I was so sensitive, nothing traumatic ever happened to me...come to think of it, nothing traumatic has ever happened to me in my whole life ehhh I probably shouldn't tempt fate with that sentence. Where was I? Oh yeah, talking about being a neurotic little kid. And I was short. And I wore big glasses. Wait, was I actually just Woody Allen as a kid? That would explain everything! EVERYTHING.

I remember one time (and by 'remember' I actually mean 'every detail of this encounter is imprinted so firmly into my mind that it will be the last thing I see when I die) during a lesson at my piano teacher's house she gently chided me for not practicing enough. Her quiet, five-second rebuke got me crying so hysterically for so long that she eventually just got me a lemonade and let me sit/cry/watch cartoons on her bed until my lesson time was over.
That smile was a LIE.
Or one time at my friend Christy's house, we were walking through her kitchen talking about Powerpuff Girls when Christy's mom politely told me I shouldn't say the word butt. I silently nodded then continued calmly walking with Christy back to her room and once she closed the door I proceeded to bawl for two hours on a (bewildered) Christy's pillow until she called my mom picked me up. Then, I kid you not, for the next month I got sick with fear every time the phone rang fearing it was Christy's mother calling to yell at me about saying the word butt. (Unsurprisingly, she never did.)
That vest was a LIE.
But don't worry guys, I toughened up! Now, I'm unafraid of criticism, disapproval, and even outright rejection (not true at all). I mean, my life is nothing like that one time I sat my whole family down to play the piano for them, and when I was done with my song (aka pressing down random keys with a very serious look on my face), they clapped enthusiastically and asked me what I was going to name it. I thought for only a second before blurting out the perfect name for my song, "Let Me Bake the Cake." To my dismay, everyone immediately started laughing and I was inconsolable for the rest of the night while my mom tried to explain that everyone was laughing because they thought I was so cute...but I knew the truth. And I still know. They were laughing AT me.
Me right before I told them
the name of my song.
Oh, family, you thought I forgot about that little incident, didn't you?

Well I didn't.

Watch your backs.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Sloantimes!

Sure Sloan is weird and creepy and kind of annoying, but the good outweighs the bad. He's manly and muscular and knows how to properly haul children.
He's also tender-hearted and sentimental (I know this because every night he sleeps with MY senior quilt).

But the best thing about my baby is that he's loves his baby. WARNING: FOTO OVERLOAD
Man, Sloan sure is lucky to have us.