Chuck and I took Junior to Olde Mistick Village today to feed the ducks (that's really all you can afford to do there since two ice cream cones cost $8). Here's the obligatory cute kid picture:
And here's Mrs. Mullet and her...her...chops? Screeech! What?!
Let's zoom in for a closer look, shall we?
Yes, I have a hair forest growing near my ear. Do I shave it? Braid it? What exactly is the "in" thing to do with female chops nowadays? Maybe I can weave my chops into the top of my handlebar mustache. I mean, why not?
Chuck assured me it was just the shadow and that the next picture would come out better.
Mmmyah, not so much. Clearly, it was hopeless. So Chuck decided to take pictures of a faceless Mrs. Mullet and her favorite kitty instead:
In case you can't tell, our cat is ginormous. He's half the length of Chuck:
Chuck wants you to know that he definitely was not grabbing the cat by his nuts. The cat doesn't have his nuts anymore.
(If all this talk of hair sprawl and fat cats has you craving sand, I’m giving away one Naturally Playful sandbox. All you have to do is leave me a comment on the post below).
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.