| Tuesday, November 29, 2005 |
| my plans to raise her as a dingo baby have been foiled again |
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Originally uploaded by ieatcrayonz.
It's official! Fifteen months after the birth of my daughter, we finally had our first playdate, or as I used to call it as a kid: "getting dropped off at another kid's house to play." Maybe that's the difference between my childhood and my daughter's childhood. Parents actually stay with their children and watch them play instead of dropping them off at Betty Lou's and running off to the Bingo hall for a few hours. My, how times have changed.
Take this, for example.
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Originally uploaded by ieatcrayonz.
Our daughters are kissing. Or to be more exact, Ellie Bear is leaning in to plant one on, and Lauren is watching reels of her redneck heritage pass before her eyes to the tune of a worn out 8-track tape. It was so darn cute. And now I have this total new appreciation for the term play-DATE.
Although, I have to apologize to my friend for not posting this sooner. I totally forgot to get her signature on the photo releases. That would be the proper playdate mom etiquette, now wouldn't it? Oh, and thanks for braving the Wizard of Oz winds and risking your live(s) to get here. Rancito patched no fewer than three of our neighbor's roofs during the worst wind storm I've seen since the 1998 Oklahoma Chili Cook-off and Bean Burrito Bake Sale.
So anyhow, I feel like I've finally arrived. My kid has a friend her own age to play with on major holidays and vacations. For all those odd days in between, we'll just keep her locked up in the closet. You know, to keep her fresh. |
| posted by ieatcrayonz @ 11/29/2005 |
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