So I blow dried (blew dry?) my hair, put on some makeup and a pair of cute slingback wedges with the intention of leaning against the hood of our car and being all, "Tell me about it, stud," a la Olivia Newton John (and if you don't know that's from Grease because you still weren't old enough to see the 20th anniversary theatrical re-release, you cannot ride this roller coaster). I even fancied a gentle breeze might tousle my hair and add some drama.
Except, Noah was over an hour late getting out. Let me tell you, folks. An hour on a small Naval base with a three year old and nothing to do. Several long walks along the
So poor Noah. After being kept late an hour, he was greeted not by a revamped and sassy Sandra D, but a shrew who'd been pulled through a hedge backwards.
Let me just add:
soooooooo funny. poor Noah.
Very funny! I can so picture it. And thanks for the new word. The people in my house are hangry all the time around here lately!
Love the term hangry. So apt. Sorry your seduction didn't go a planned. But it made for a good story.
In my house, we call them "the hungry grumps." It sounds cute, but it's usually used more in the context of, "I have the hungry grumps right now, so if you speak to me for any reason at all, I will punch you." Also, those e-cards are the best ever.
Bahahaha! Oh how I have missed you!
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