We’re Working On It

I posted this picture, which Sweetgirl had drawn, on The Facebook a few weeks ago:


While colorful and detailed, some of the details concern me. Like, why are they picking flowers in ball gowns?  Why can you see through their dresses? And, probably most importantly, why don’t the puffy sleeves look like… sleeves?

“Look at how happy everyone is!”, someone pointed out.

“What lovely and colorful dresses!”, another said.

I chalked it up to “Kindergarten Art.” And, since that last drawing was meant to be delivered to a little friend down the street, I was able to just let it go.

Until this one.

Which is now prominently displayed in the hall.

Of her school.


And it took the loving text message from one of my dearest Sweet Friends to alert me to this. Apparently, lots of folks in our school now have questions.

“Why do they play basketball in ball gowns over there?”

“Those are puffy sleeves, right?”

“Where, exactly, are they buying those ball gowns, anyway?”

However, I am an eternal optimist. Despite the fact that I have never, in the history of ever, played basketball with that child, I see potential in her story-telling abilities.

And then, there’s always this:

Sweetfriend_Text_aboutSweetgirl_MissindeedyOh, yes indeedy!

Of Hairspray and Friendship



When Dionne Warwick thought up the lyrics to the song “That’s What Friends Are For”, I’m pretty sure that she was thinking about hairspray. And I don’t mean the Musical.


I have a Sweetfriend who lives down the street; and I think she’s the “Awesome Sauce”, as they say.  Truly. I call her Sparkles and she calls me Sunshine.  She’s one of those friends that teaches you how to love lip gloss again at 40-something, tells other people that she can’t ever imagine you getting mad at anybody (HA!), and is too busy getting the most out of life to bother with any Mama Drama.  She wears sparkly earrings with her yoga pants and shares the link for that cozy, but darling, sweater she was wearing yesterday, so that you can get one too.


Sparkles would tell you that I’m the bomb because, recently, when she was out of dish-washing sponges and asked if I had one to spare, I sent one down;a half of one, to be exact.  When she asked where I bought those cute little sponges, I told her Tar-jay. Then, I explained that to get more use out of them, and to get into more of the little cracks and crevices with my “cleaning”, *cough, cough*, I cut them in half.  She thought that was ”brilliant”.


I, however, am pretty sure that she’s brilliant, because she has taught me to “always pad the playdate!”, layer on the bling to make anything, even yoga pants, look dressed up, and to remember that “exhausted kids are more often than not, happy kids”.


Recently, at the bus stop, we had this conversation:


Sparkles – “Wow! Your hair looks awesome!”

Me – “Thanks!  I am trying to, you know… style it.  I actually pulled out a curling iron this morning for the first time in, oh… 2 decades.  But enjoy it.  It will fall out in about 7 minutes.”

Sparkles – “You just need some hairspray.  And don’t be afraid to really lay it on.”

Me – “Oh, okay.  I haven’t used hairspray in… well… ever.; but… I don’t want it to look stiff.  Yours always looks so bouncy!”

Sparkles – “Trust me, just good old [drugstore brand] hairspray does great!”


At this point, the bus came.  And every dad within a footfall field’s radius of our conversation was never happier to smell bus fumes.


After arriving back home, I received this text:




I went to my door and found Ralphie (her Elf on the Shelf) hugging, oh-so-tightly, a bottle of hairspray.  (Apparently, Ralphie stopped by to help more than just our elf, Jack, that day. What a compassionate elf…).


And the best part of all? It worked! The hairspray worked! And I didn’t even have to stand out on the front porch to spray it.


Now that’s what friends are for. Indeed!