The First Year to Receive More "Happy ET Poos!" to "Happy Birthday, you!"

Does anyone watch Hotel Babylon?  Seems The Boy and I have an addiction.  Again.  It is kind of sad how we just keep falling for all these British shows.  We are total whores for England.  At least I am a quarter, pure-bred English--I don't know what The Boy's excuse is.

The weekend gave us more ET poos (I have gone through many Q-tips and green fingers to keep his wound clean).  The Amazon and I tried to shop our hearts out but completely failed and are appalled by this season's offering, especially in shoes (seriously, SERIOUSLY?).  I'm all about strappy sandals, but these are strappy in the extreme with baubles and metallic and cork and I can go on, but I have already mostly buried the memory.  There was some hydration issues at the Domain (too much walking, not enough beverages), but in the end, we managed to get fancy and attend The Boy's choral show.  It was so very lovely (though, Fern Hill did drag on for us, so we spent some time making fun of an image in the program that looked suspiciously like boobs, when I think it was supposed to be some kind of branch with leaves).  I always get this wonderful fulfilled feeling watching my boy up there conducting a choir in to making beautiful sounds.  And yes, the Green Lady's voice was so awesome and pure.  Tell her I said so when you see her, because she just doesn't believe me, though she should, since I really don't make a habit of lying to make people feel good (except for this recent aberration with the 6th graders).

Sunday can be summed up like this: allergies and napping.  The end.

It was a wonderful Monday--there are so few Mondays that will be this deliciously fun.  I didn't even sleep late--it was that good!  The Boy once again proved how good he is to me, and I got to see one of my dearest couples over a scrumptious dinner that has left me quite sated and sleepy during this stormy night.  (It may sound melodramatic, but it is all true.)

Breakfast:

Afternoon:

(Whoopis' sister)

Dinner:

I would like to post a picture of the awesome shirt Frijole gave me, but I am only wearing it and my undies, and The Boy (classically) got too much crotch in the photo.  I'm a demure woman in her mid-30s.  I couldn't possibly start posting crotch shots now.  I was willing to post a picture of my torso wearing the shirt sans bra, but showing my panties will just be going too far.  Trust me.  Maybe I'll let those on FB see the glory.