I can think of about four or five times the past couple of days that I've thought, "Aha! This will be great to blog about!" And, as the title of this post intimates, I have nothing. Nada. Zilch. So here are some nothings I can think of while sitting at my kitchen table with hair that must be washed, dried and styled by 6:30 (it's 4:50 p.m. right now and, if you know my hair personally, it takes some time):
1. Hmmm...that makes me think of this little known fact about me. I have had the same hair since I was 2 (with the exception of the processes put on it to make it still look like it did when I was two...capisce?). I had thick, jet black hair as a baby that kept growing and thickening and growing and thickening. It was quite ridiculous. By age 2, it turned blonde. Gradually. I had reverse roots. Blonde roots and black tips. Weird. By age 5, I wore a triangle. The hair on top of my head was close to my scalp while the rest of it pointed out diagonally as it approached my shoulders. At 10, I decided to grow my 80's bangs out. Thank goodness headbands were in. At age 14, after a few short do's, I FINALLY figured out that long looked best on me. And I kept it that way until college with a variation of highlights here and there. After my first semester of college, I cut my hair drastically. It was cute. Kind of stacked in the back. Blonde, of course. Matt and my dad liked it but my mom wasn't so sure. Now that I look back, I don't blame her. Long is best on me.
So how long can you have your hair long? Is there an age-appropriateness to hair? Anyone?
Whew. That was a long "nothing." I'm going to have to limit myself. It's 5:00. Less than an HOUR and a HALF. Cuttin' it close.
2. Reid is digging Elmo. I'm pretty sure he's seen it before but something magical must have happened. All he wants to watch is "Elmo's Wuhruhld." Thus, the earworm has begun: "La, la la la, la, la la la, Elmo's World." Is every Elmo song (minus the theme song) to the tune of "Jingle Bells"?
3. Audrey has a friend that lives behind us. They have a pool. Like everyone else in our neighborhood. Except us. Seriously. EVERYONE. It's Texas. Anyway, Audrey does her own lurking on them. She climbs up to the "clubhouse" part of our playset and spies on them. Poor thing. She looks longingly over the fence and says, "Hey, Ana...what are you doing?" when she can clearly see that Ana is swimming with a friend or her family. Audrey has no qualms about inviting herself over...whenever. Social etiquette is not her forte.
4. One more...5:07 p.m....5:08 p.m.....shoot....5:09 p.m.....get with it. Eh...forget it. I'm done. Happy Labor Day weekend everyone! Go shoot a dove!