Saturday, January 9, 2010

Today I'm proclaiming something that my friends and family have probably known for a long time:
I'm the queen of bad "fun" ideas.
Take the time I planned a trip for "the best jerk chicken" while we were in Jamaica and we came back with 2 chicken sandwiches with feathers, 2 pork sandwiches with skin and pig hair still attached and $56 lighter.
Or, the time that I made everyone create Christmas eggs during the holiday because "Why should Easter be the only holiday that gets cute eggs?"
What about the time I piled 7 people into an SUV to go look at Christmas lights ("It will be SO FUN!") and then had to claw my way out of the backseat when I had a total claustrophobia-induced panic attack?
Anyway, I think you get the point.
So today, I thought it would be fun to get the 23 month old out in the snow.
And the 14 degrees.
"We'll make a snowman!" I said.
She was gung ho.
We bundle up, go out, make a snowman and then realize that we had forgotten the face accoutrements.
On the way back in, I lift Ella onto the porch, lose my footing, and in an attempt to NOT crush my baby, sidestep, crush her anyway, fall, and smash my head - face first - into the wrought iron chair on the porch.

Baby cries.
I bleed.
But, darn it, we still got that snowman face on.
Mission Accomplished.

This is the snowman:

This is the baby on snowman making:

(That was an hour ago. She's still curled into a fetal position.)

Wasn't that FUN, honey?!?


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