Naturally, the day after I write about family dinner, we end up going home.
The Universe is just tricky like that.
Not that I’m complaining. I was in absolutely no mood to cook. And Olive Chicken and a Baked Potato with few glasses of Champagne is always better than take-out.
I’ll do pretty much anything for a good, salt-crusted spud with a glass of bubbly.
How classy, I know. Part of me wonders if I’m setting the bar too low, but I just have this feeling that I’m not the only girl in this boat.
I don’t know about y’all, but whenever I go home, I invariably return to our place with an armful of mail and a bag full of new possessions.
Marcus loves this. Obviously.
And this week was no exception.
I know. I KNOW. Please try to contain yourselves.
They don’t just make barrettes like that anymore.
Hell, I don’t think they’ve made barrettes like that for the last 15 years. So that’s precious cargo.
When I discovered them in one of Mom’s Keep/Toss boxes, I snatched them out immediately. There’s just so much…potential right there.
Do I wear them to theme parties? Ironically? Unironically? Do I match them to things? Match things to them? The choices are endless, really, and I haven’t even gotten warmed-up.
Watch out world.
Did you rock the barrette when you were a pup?
What’s one ridiculously material object you miss from 1997?