After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Girl things

We have girls. All girls. This is a bit ironic because neither of us has a sister. I have three brothers and my husband has two. This whole girl/sister thing is new to us and we are blazing new trails daily.

One of the most recent trails (or maybe trials?) involves pink tights. Our 5 year old has been having a regular pink tight-related crisis at least once every other day for about the last three weeks. She was down to one pair and they were dirty about every other day.

"But mom! Pink tights would look GREAT with this dress!"

So yesterday I took them to Target in search of pink tights. And oh my! Everything was so fantastic to them! You'd think I never took them out or something. And Target knows exactly what little girls like. I'm sure their glee was heard throughout the store.

But as we're walking along suddenly I hear from Calla (who is 3), "**GASP!** MOM! Boob things!" And I turn around to see her standing in absolute awe in front of a rack of bright colored bras. And she isn't done yet because she thought I was still walking, "MOOOOOOMMMM! BOOOOB things!"

What do you do when your child is yelling "boob things!" at Target? I just stood there and chuckled at her. It seemed appropriate.

We continued winding our way to the little girl tights section, each of them got their tights and we wandered back to the front of the store to pay. All the way they are both oooing and aweing at all the fun stuff Target wants them to want. We manage to get to the check-out without any extra items and pay for the tights.

I tell the checker, "I don't need a bag." He replies, "No problem. Save a tree." I say, "Plastic bags aren't made from trees." He says, "Save a tree indirectly." I say, "Okay."

We make it through the parking lot to the car with six pairs of pink tights in hand. The girls get in their seats and we head home.

A few minutes later I look back to see two little girls with a pair of tights on their heads. What am I to do? All I can do is chuckle and keep driving. Seemed appropriate.

Calla was worn out by the time we got home and in no mood for pictures, but Grace was all about getting pictures.

My girls are goofy. I love them.

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