The Weekend

Sunday always sneaks up on me. I'm never ready for the weekend to end and yet the sun comes up every Sunday morning and there I am: one day away from another week at the salt mines. Actually, judging from the news, I'm lucky to be getting to go to the salt mines these days.

We started our weekend with Ali and me on horseback at Fort Benjamin Harrison on Friday afternoon. Yes, I played hooky. It was a Brownie trip, and I think those Brownie moms are starting to grow on me. All except one, maybe. There's always one...

So I was feeling good Friday evening. We were only on the horses for about 40 minutes, but it works muscles you don't often remember you have. I wasn't in pain at all, and it had been fun.

Then Karin calls and asks us to join her for a 5K walk Saturday morning. Sure! I'm in good shape. Jeff even decided to go, and it was a lot of fun.

Ali and Alex didn't even notice the miles ticking away as we walked downtown along the canal. Afterward, the kids wanted to get their faces painted, so Karin and I did, too. We looked marvelous.
Afterward, Karin and Dale took Alison to play for a while. Karin and I promised to do all of our Saturday errands without wiping off the makeup.

The lady at my dry cleaners didn't bat an eye. No one was around the recycling area to gawk at me, but at Kroger, a few people made comments. Lots of them were amused.

When I got home I found a 70 percent off postcard for Harold's at the Fashion Mall. I go to Harold's only for sales. It's a great little shop but wicked expensive. The clothes are well made, so when they're way on sale, they're good to buy. The ladies at Harold's were not impressed with my makeup artists, and the clothes were not impressed with my little adventure with exercise and Alli.

Jeff was with me, and I think he cursed the experience when, as we walked in, he recalled our first (and only) shopping venture together at a new store called Bebe.

We'd never heard of it, and I was looking for a dress to wear to his hoity-toity law firm Christmas party. That was before Alison. Back in my thin days. I was cocky. We went into this store and I quickly learned that what I'd taken to be mannequins were actually human beings who's last meal was back when their moms were spooning it in.

The loved Jeff. Unaware of the angst to come, I was ushered quickly to a dressing room. She swooshed that curtain closed, spun on her stiletto and started cooing at Jeff. I didn't care. I was confident in my relationship and my sveltness. And then I tried on the size Medium glittery dress.

I knew Bebe was French. I had assumed the translation of American dress sizes wouldn't be such a language barrier. Apparently, though, "Medium" in Bebe-speak is Size 4 in America. There is no Size 8 in Bebe. I asked for a "Large." It turned out to be a 6. I literally got stuck in that damn dress and couldn't get it off.

Meanwhile, the stick figures were hopping all over Jeff as if he were Hugh Hefner and they were the Girls Next Door. A thin velvet curtain away, trapped in a shower-stall sized dressing room, I was sweating bullets all over the dress and calling for help. No one came. No one cared.

Some parts of the dress may have been harmed as I tore it off, but when I'd finally escaped, I threw it over the top of the curtain and asked, politely as I could, if we could leave that fine establishment. I'm not sure if the dress actually hit Jeff in the head, but I'm sure the stick figures did not approve.

My time at Harold's was much the same on Saturday. I could get into the skirt, at least, but I just wasn't feeling it. And when I looked in the mirror and saw my painted face and stubby legs, it was just over.

I'd forgotten that I had the face paint, and suddenly it made sense why the sales ladies weren't fawning all over me. Then, my back started hurting and I decided I was too old for freakin' horseback riding and 5K walking.

Later that night, we were at a Christ the King 2nd grade parents' party and Diane, the hostess, asked me if I'd been at Costco that day because she'd chased a little red head through the store thinking it was Ali only to find her with an unknown woman. I said, no, but joked that I'd heard a news account of an APB out for a strange woman chasing kids at Costco. Later, she heard me talking about face painting and said, "you know that little red-headed girl had face painting, and so did her mom."

Diane was relieved that she hadn't chased a strange kid, and I was relieved that Karin had looked just as silly out in public as I had.

This morning, Ali and I rode the tadem over to the newspaper stand and then Alison and the Ogden kids practiced riding their bikes at the Glendale parking lot while Karin and I power-walked.

There was an elderly couple there as well. The husband was using a cane. They walk the Glendale parking lot circuit when the weather is good, and today was a good day. They ambled along, happy as could be to enjoy the bright sun, the blue sky and the chance to put one foot in front of the other.

I know I'll never be a stick figure unless I forgo the embalming and a wait a decade or so, but I'm feeling just fine about myself right now.

Maybe 20 years from now Jeff will have given up basketball and it'll be him and me strolling around empty parking lot in the sunshine getting a little exercise. Of course I'll probably have the cane...

Oh! hey, light a candle for the Sox, would ya?. I crashed before the end of the game last night, but Jeff stayed up til the bitter end........He's still crushed. Only the Colts win saved his mood. Alison's soothing, "That's OK Dad. There's always next year," didn't help.