Just as I suspected, no one stayed awake long enough to watch American History X last night. As a matter of fact, I woke up around midnight, the television still on, some SNL skit with Andy Samberg and Paul Rudd was playing. Something about Tumbling, or Tumbelina, or something. I haven't taken then time to investigate what we missed. Now we're deciding if Sunday evening at nearly 9pm is the right time to get into such seriousness as X. So far, Seinfeld is winning.
Stella went to her first "without Heath" birthday party today. Her friends, twin boys, turned the big 3, and celebrated at My Gym, a personal favorite when it comes to birthday party venues. It didn't take long to detach her from my hip, and she found her place in the ball pit. Head-to-toe, completely buried in brightly colored balls. She kicked her feet, made the occasional taboo toss of the ball out of the pit, and reburied herself in an ocean of smooth, circular plastic.
Eventually the party made its way to the "cake room," and indulged in pizza, Fire Truck cake, and juice boxes. During storytime tonight, I asked her if she had fun at the party. An ear to ear grin spread across her face and she said, Lummy, then smacked her lips.
President's Day tomorrow, no preschool. Just as Stella was going to bed, Heath popped his head in her room and said, Don't forget, park tomorrow. 70 again in February. How could I forget?
Hmmm...That 70s Show...looks like Mark and I will be watching someone get curbed tonight.
Wait a second, SNL Backstage. We have a winner.
No comments:
Post a Comment