Where my mind is at...

I wanted to blog yesterday. After all, it was Tuesday and certainly there must have been some random smatterings to discuss. Somewhere between the Meals on Wheels luncheon, where I think the operations manager might have started her speech by saying there was never a good time to say "thank you", a quest to find the perfect white shirt for my daughter's orchestra concert tonight (and by perfect, I just mean one she will actually wear), and crocheting, I simply forgot what day it even was until my rear end was so comfortably molded into the couch cushion that getting up for the camera was not an option.

I suppose I could have solved my problem of finding a shirt if I honed my renewed romance with crocheting into a line of apparel. The only way that will probably ever happen is if I stitch several dishcloths together and call them a shirt. I can only imagine the thrill on a thirteen year old girl's face when her mother brings out a rocking white cotton top seemingly crafted on a potholder loom. 

Let's talk for a moment about how my quest for that shirt panned out. The tried and true sports bra section of the red bullseye store looked as though the Grinch heard I was on a mission and snuck in to steal the entire display. The fixture was there, but with not even a crumb fit for a mouse. Panic. I started whipping winter white garments around, hoping if the girl layered them all together we would be in business. 

As I revealed my offerings to my daughter, I noticed a smile cross her face. My efforts had been validated! Wait, no, sorry, she just noticed a step before me that the fancy tank top undergarment I had purchased had a nice "nursing" tag on it. I knew it was the wrong item, but still pondered its potential effectiveness. The two white shirts that were apparently too see-thru, as white shirts tend to be, are now ours to keep because I was not charged for them.

So you see, as much as I would like to blog about some of the silly random things I have experienced and seen, I have to go somewhere, anywhere...I have no idea where...to get my daughter a shirt...a white shirt. You know, like those white shirts I have, but cannot wear because I have no appropriate bras. Yet somehow I was surprised to find myself in this predicament. 

You know, it's kind of nice to be back here just relaxing and chatting with at you. You've calmed me, and lulled me into a sense of security. Wait...FALSE, a false sense of security! You aren't going to be there tonight to explain to the orchestra teacher why my daughter is wearing ecru or cream, or better yet a nice thick white sweatshirt, are you? I'm off, on some random mission...

Stop by Stacy's to wish the hostess with the mostess a Happy Birthday Week!