Hysterical!

This sounds like it could come from our house on any given night.

She's really funny!

As far as the latest and greatest from our place:

I'm still fighting with this freaking etsy seller. She gave me this boo-hoo sob story. I'm sorry, I say and then I tell her that it is customary to put up notification of vacation so that sellers are not waiting. She tells me she didn't have time to do this. Does she think I'm a natural blond? (Well, okay, so I *am*.) I've already checked out her website and know she put up a notification to her business customers that she'd be on vacation from "x" until "y." She tells me she'll issue a refund. Refund has yet to come through and paypal sends me a rejection notice stating the funds are not available. Now I'm dressed in full war regalia ready to do battle. She has a website, she is an LLC. She does business through etsy.com and a few other places. My mission: to leave as many negative comments as I possibly can until she issues a refund. I will not go down without shedding blood!

I am on the prowl for business cards and cards to attach my hair clips and bows to. I need something to show my clothing on, too, at the festival. Do you know how much goes into these shows? People take this stuff seriously!

:pause: The Professor has turned on the television to static, turned it up rather loudly, and is standing in front of it, nose to the screen, shaking his head back and forth. Cue Poltergeist music... :/pause:

And back to our regularly scheduled blog update.

Figgy has taken to doing everything she's not supposed to do this week. And, before she does it, she looks right at you and says, "no, no baby." Then, she proceeds to cackle that evil Figgy laughter (the Wicked Witch of the West has nothing on my daughter) and proceed forward. She is also keen on the idea of placing her hands on either sides of your cheeks, squinting her eyes, and patting you really hard before falling against you and hugging you violently. It is a fun time in our house lately, as she and her brother stand at the top of the stairs and yell, "Uh oh! Oh, noooooo!" while they throw toys down the steps.

The Professor...what can I say about the Professor? His obsession with books has reached an all-time high and we spent three hours in the morning pointing out every. single. dot and picture. He can tell you what every animal in the world says, but he will not say the name of the animal. His favorite pasttime is tackling Figgy and howling with laughter until he coughs. The poor dog has had to spend her afternoons leisurely sprawled across my bed in order to recoup from the morning wrestling sessions with the kids. She is the best dog any family could ever ask for (a close second is the world's largest black lab that lives next door, named Jack). He (the Professor, not the dog) has had a growth spurt. As I sit here looking at him, I see that his 18-month outfit is cutting him too short in the crotch.

Have I mentioned we're going on vacation in a few weeks? (If that's what you want to call it, that is.) Vacation. If you're looking for us, we'll be the family with the small u-haul parked on the beach. My idea of vacation has always been walking up when I want to and crawling out the front door to the beach where I sit until the sun goes down and complain about how my face hurts because I fell asleep and no one woke me upl; yet I do it again, year after year. It does not involve driving four hours so that I can still wake up at the crack of dawn only to pack up a small storage container to haul down the walk to the beach where we have to take up a small acre with beach chairs, umbrellas, a small pool, a play yard, a mini-fridge (with an extension cord that reaches several miles), blankets, towels, toys, and a year's supply of suntan lotion; only to pack it up and do it again tomorrow.

Fun, fun, fun!