Margarita and Socks

Or how about a margarita that will knock your socks off? Here's the flower arrangement I got from my sister and Younger Son for my birthday. Isn't it gorgeous? Everyone at work was very admiring of it. Dave came and picked me up at work, so I was able to bring it home without making a mess of myself on the bus. Sis told me she sent Evil Twin a regular margarita (mine is the strawberry one).

Dave, Older Son and I all went shopping tonight and outfitted OS for his senior picture. We got him his first adult suit -- he'll be styling! We went for the whole enchilada, except for the socks.
When the salesman mentioned socks, I whipped my current sock in progress (which just happens to be for OS, and just happened to match the suit, which was grey) from my bag. "No socks," I said. I might have been a bit too emphatic, because there was a little of the "I'm going to back slowly away from the wild woman with the pointy sticks" look to him around the eyes.

Still celebrating. I ate ablsolutely nothing of nutritional value until dinner today, and that was mall food (Panda Palace, kung pao chicken with rice) so only nominally nutritive. But just to be sure, I followed up with a DQ Blizzard chaser. You know, the nutritional choices you would beat your kids for making. Meanwhile, I won't let the boys get white bread for sandwiches. And a tip here -- we justify these things to the boys with the "Over 30" rule. "Only people over 30 can eat ice cream before dinner." "Only people over 30 can eat in the living room/car/bed." "Only people over 30 can play with candles/knives/other implements of destruction." You can see the value here. A friend once asked if I would up the age after Dave and I both turned 40. No, I think 30 just about covers it. If they survive to 30, they're on their own from there.