American Girl

She waits another week to fall apart...

If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. ~ Thomas Paine

The Turd in a Punchbowl Meme

 

Ok, so Tom from Hamstermotor tagged me for a new meme.  Again!!  (Clearly, he has a little crush on me.)  (It's about time somebody did!)

 

I'll do it, but it totally counts as my Thursday Poetry.

 

The rules: one must write a 4 line poem, with the phrase "Turd in a punchbowl" as the first and third lines, and the second and fourth must rhyme.  Then, I suppose one must tag three people (preferably those you have crushes on) to do the same.

 

For the record, I didn't do the extensive research that Tom did.

 

Turd in a punchbowl
This isn't easy
Turd in a punchbowl
Makes me feel queasy

 

Turd in a punchbowl
Do you float, or sink?
Turd in a punchbowl
You sure do stink

 

There you have it.  I'm going to tag Vern, and DJGroovySlug, and MoonGlow.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 15:53 | link | comments (6) |

Things like this make my blood pressure rise:

Stupid people who'll sell any old stupid thing on Ebay and the stupid people who'll buy them.

Click fast, I'm sure this auction will be taken down shortly.
I hope he really does get haunted.  I know just the person to do it, too.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 23:06 | link | comments (6) |

Have I mentioned that I'm babysitting?  It's just sad when I'm practically doing back to back Thursday poetry posts.  So today, I shall catch up.  Quickly.

 

Last night we celebrated Aurora's birthday:

 

Disregard the glazed look in her eyes.  She was clearly overserved.  Don't tell anyone that it wasn't actually her birthday.  We needed a party and she was as good a guest of honor as anyone.  We had cake.  Yuuuum...cake.

 

The tooth fairy came, and this morning I learned that she started questioning the reality of the fairy last year.  Ha!  That totally explains why she was so quiet about the whole thing.  That, or maybe Ryan's suggestion that he tie her dangling tooth to the bumper of his truck to yank it out.

 

I am dumb.  Really, really dumb.  Before you say "This is nothing new", let me suggest that I am dumber than usual, (and actually, I'm really not that dumb.  Maybe my blog is, but in real life, I'm rather sharp.  Really.)  and it's actually a verified symptom of pregnancy.  For example, the other night I went to the grocery store, purchased some things, then walked out to the parking lot.  I walked down the row that I always park in, but my car wasn't there.  So I thought it must have been another row over, so I crossed over and walked all the way to the back - no car.  Then I realized that I had no recollection of actually parking my car.  it was like I was just morphed into the grocery store.  So I stood there and thought for a minute.  Retraced my steps, because that always worked on "The Brady Bunch".  Then I remembered that I had parked by the bank, in the same shopping center, to use the ATM.  So, my car was all the way over by the bank.  Whew.  I started walking over there, when this strange man (I knew he was strange, because we'd had a strange conversation on the check out line.  He was in front of me) looked at me, then actually took a few steps in the direction I had come from, then started to follow me.  So I thought "Oh crap, he's following me.  First he looked to see if were are any witnesses, and now he's following me in a dark parking lot."  So, I stopped, turned around, and made ferocious eye contact with him, because that's exactly what I've been taught to do in such situations.  He said "Are you ok?" and I said "Yes." and he said "Is someone bothering you?" and I paused, because I thought HE was bothering me.  Then I realized that he had seen me walk to the end of the lot and do an about face, and now I was walking in the opposite direction, because I'd lost my car.  Temporarily.  He looked again to see what could have made me turn around, and I explained sheepishly that I had forgotten that I'd parked on the other side of the lot.  So he laughed at me.  Why does stupidity always have witnesses?  I thanked him for caring, and went to my car.  Ugh.

 

So, I drive to my sister in law's house, park the car, and my key won't come out.  I can't turn the car off, because the key won't turn at all.  I tried it numerous times.  You know how the definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again, yet expecting different results?  Yeah, it was like that.  But I couldn't very well get out of the car and leave it running with the keys in it.  I learned THAT lesson two weeks ago.  So I called Ryan, who was right inside the house, and explained that I was in the driveway, but couldn't turn off my car.  In a sort of sad voice, he said "Put it in "park", Baby."  Oh.  It was still in "drive".  Good system.  Then, suprised by his quick solution, I said "How did you know?" and he said "How did you not know?"

 

Stupidity always has a witness. 

 

Someday, I'm going to do something really smart, and no one will believe me, because no one will be around to see it.  A while back, while sitting around the kitchen table with two sisters in law and my mom, I asked if this dumbness goes away, and these three women, who've had nine children between them, just laughed at me.  I'm afraid it gets worse.  Much, much worse.   It's just sad.

 

I had a lot more to say, but go figure, I can't remember any of it. 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:58 | link | comments (7) |

Help!  Does anyone know what the the tooth fairy is giving for a lost tooth these days?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:27 | link | comments (15) |

Good Night
by Wilhelm Müller

I came as a stranger; as a stranger now I leave. The flowers of May once
welcomed me warmly; a young girl spoke of love, her mother even of marriage.

Now all is bleak--the pathway covered with snow.

The time of departure is not mine to choose; I must find my way alone in
this darkness. With the shadow of the moon at my side, I search for traces of
wildlife in the white snow.
Why should I linger and give them reason to send me away? Let stray hounds
howl outside their master's house. Love likes to wander from one to another,
as if God willed it so. My darling, farewell.
A quiet step, a careful shutting of the door so your sleep is not disturbed,
and two words written on the gate as I leave, "Good night," to let you know I
thought of you.

 

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 19:32 | link | comments (8) |

What would YOU do...

 

For a Klondike Bar?

 

(Breakfast.  Yummy!)

 

Discuss amongst yourselves while I take a little blog break.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:14 | link | comments (10) |

If I could be....

 

The fun never ends.  Pooklekufr tagged me with the "If I could be..." meme, which came from Oddybobo (the bully), which was stolen by Ogre  from Marla Swoffer, if I'm reading correctly.   Or something like that.

 

If I could be a moonbat, I would start every conversation with something like "Listen, you worthless zionist...." even if I were just talking about the weather.  I would make friends will all of the other moonbats, and create a HUGE moonbat posse.   With signs.  And T-shirts.  We'd spend all of our time complaining about pretty much everything.  Then, I would throw a HUGE moonbat ball, and invite all of my moonbat friends to come, and bring all of their moonbat friends.  And when all of the moonbats of the world were gathered in one room, I would blow it up.  BLAMO!  Nah, just kidding.  But if I were a moonbat, I might not be.  Oh, and naturally, I'd stalk Jheka.   

 

If I could be a psychologist, I would be a blog psychologist.  Because no offense, but man, some of these people really need one.    I would realize that some people are just better at expressing themselves through the written word, and I would make "blog calls", read their troubles, and comment my solutions.  I would charge double for people who leave "Goodbye, cruel world" posts, and triple if they don't post again for two weeks after, but check their blogs for comments several, and I mean several times a day.  I would be the no-nonsense bloggy psychologist.  I think that I would be the most popular blogger on the net.

 

If I could be a librarian, I would read and know every single book in the library.  This would be possible, because I would run a small, local library.  Independently owned and operated.  Like the small video store in Ryan's old neighborhood.  You walk in, and the guy behind the counter could recommend a movie for you, and he's always right on.  Such would be my library.  You could walk in and say "I feel like reading something that will make me jump at all the scary parts, and sleep with the lights on" and I'd have the perfect book for you.  It would be like "Championship Vinyl" was to record stores.  (You have seen "High Fidelity", haven't you??)  My staff and I would know our products so well, that when there were no customers around, we'd poll eachother on books.  (Name the top five Dean Koontz plots that are explained by Aliens...)  

 

If I could be a lawyer, I would be the suckiest lawyer ever.  Because I can never, ever make up my mind.  I think I'm the only person in the world who reads a debate and says to herself   "Excellent point, he's exactly right....no wait, that's also an excellent point, HE must be right...."  Let's face it, I'm a flip flopper, and anyone who's been blogging with me for any length of time knows this.  I pity the fool who has me for a lawyer.  I really do.

 

If I could be a writer, I would write the things that I think about when I'm thinking my darkest, saddest thoughts, and I would teach the world empathy.

 

The Rules: (Copied shamelessly!)  Immediately following there is a list of 20 different occupations. You must select at least 5 of them (feel free to select more). You may add more if you like to your list before you pass it on (after you select 5 of the items as it was passed to you). Each one begins with "If I could be..." Of the 5 you selected, you are to finish each phrase with what you would do as a member of that profession. Send a trackback to Ogre's post, because he's keeping track of his little sin against nature.

 

 

 

 

 

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be the oddybobo's man servant. . .
If I could be a moonbat...
If I could be a failed actor gone political

Have fun!

And an update, I've tagged Jheka, Urthshu, and Madam Butterfly. 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 23:12 | link | comments (5) |

Sad anniversary today.

 

Don't forget them.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:13 | link | comments (1) |

I just feel like venting.  And I am a witch with a capital B, so I don't blame you if you head straight for one of my links, which are full of sane and friendly people.  But at least I have an excuse, and at least it's (probably) only a temporary thing.  Last week we watched that Excorcist movie - you know the last one that came out, which is the prequel to the original?  Well anyway, it's kind of like pregnancy.  Does that sum up how I'm feeling these days?  Like a possessed girl who's head occasionally spins around in circles as she projectile vomits green goo.  That's me.

 

Once in a while on a Sunday the kid swap between my brother and his monster of an ex wife happens at my mom's house, where we have dinner.  Last week during this exchange was the first time I'd seen Anna since announcing my pregnancy.  So we were in the kitchen and she says that she heard the news, and instead of a simple "That's nice", or "congratulations", or even just leaving it alone, which would have been A-OK with me, she says "Oops, huh?"    This is one of those things that makes my head spin in circles.  Don't imply, ever, that our child is or ever was a mistake.  Having had four children of her own, she KNOWS this.  It's like the very first law of motherhood, I think.  I also know that she does things like this just to get to me, and it usually works.  So instead of kicking her, I just fake smiled and told her that no, this was a very planned event.  (Which it was, in case you were wondering but too polite to ask)  So then she winked at Ryan and said "Oh, so he finally wore you down then?"  Ugh.  I just really really really^54684156 dislike her.

 

So last night we have this same run in.  For various reasons that I don't feel like getting into, I had a bad day yesterday.  I was washing the dishes, which always makes me feel better, when she walked in the door, looked at me, broke into a huge grin, and said "God, you look like crap!".  Every cell in my body told me to just ignore her, because as I stated earlier, I know that she does things like this just to get to me.  But as I also stated earlier, I was having a really bad day, and I am feeling quite possessed lately.  So I did what any other normal, pregnant woman who's having a bad day anyway would have done - burst into tears.  Then I got mad at myself for giving her the satisfaction, and it was just a vicious cycle that made me cry even harder.  And just as was laughing and cooing "Oh honey, you need to get a hold of yourself, because it only gets worse from here...." Ryan walked in.  On a normal day Ryan ignores Anna as best he can, mostly because she scares him.  But on this day he couldn't, because he's having sympathy hormones maybe, or maybe because he knew I'd had a bad day and that she repeatedly uses my weaknesses to plan her attacks, or maybe because he's my husband and my protector and an all around good guy who doesn't like to see me upset like that... well, let's just say it got a little ugly, in a quiet and discreet way, so as not to alarm the little people in the house.  For the next seven and a half months, I'm giving myself permission to use the "H" word.  I hate her.  Really.

 

I haven't blogged about her in a long time, because she used to read my blog and it just wasn't as fun to talk about her and be held accountable for it.  But last night, after she forced an apology and pretended to be my best friend, she said "Oh, I noticed you deleted your blog."  Yes.  Yes, I did.  Heh.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 17:29 | link | comments (17) |

Today is Ryan's birthday. 

 

His mom sent a card with some pictures of him as a child.  I can't believe how much he hasn't changed:

 

It's that same exact face, and that same exact mischievous smile that I love today.  It's the smile that he wears when I'm talking to him and he's listening, even though he's already two steps ahead of me and already has the problem solved.  It's the smile he wears when he walks in the door after a long shift, and when he's having an important discussion about Power Rangers with one of my nephews, and when he's bluffing at poker.  It's the smile that melts my heart, and it's somehow comforting and amusing to see that he's had it all along.  I hope our child has it too.  In fact, I hope our child turns out exactly like him.  There needs to be more people like him in the world.

 

Happy Birthday, Ryan.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:19 | link | comments (9) |

Thursday poetry: 

 

Variation on the Word Sleep
by Margaret Atwood 

 

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief

at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

 

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 22:38 | link | comments (4) |

My nephew was here today, and boy was he mad.  He was mad because his mom went shopping and he wanted to go along.  He was even more mad when he found out Ryan wasn't here.

 

He was so mad that he went upstairs and closed himself in the guest bedroom.  I tried all my best tricks to get him out.

 

"Do you want to come downstairs and watch Sleeping Beauty with me?"

 

"NO!"

 

"Do you want to go to the park?"

 

"NO!"

 

"The Library?"

 

"NO!"

 

"Ok, well I was thinking I'd go get some ice cream."

 

{Pause}  "What kind of ice cream?"

 

"Maybe Carvel."

 

"NO!!"

 

When it can't be fixed with ice cream, it just can't be fixed.  So I left him alone for a little while.  I think that little kids pick on on the "Rookie" vibe the moment you get pregnant.  It's mother nature's way of preparing you for your own little tantrum thrower.  That's how, when it's your own kid being impossible, you're still able to love them.

 

After about twenty minutes, I heard the door open, and he called down for some tape.  Great.  There's a lot of stuff in that room, including some craft stuff.  I figured he was working on an art project, and the problem was solved.  So I brought up some tape, and he proceeded to tape this sign up on the door:

 

 

So I admire his work, and ask him what it is.  He said it was a sign, so I asked him what it said.

 

"It says STAY.....OUT.....OF.....MY.....ROOM!!"  {SLAM!!}

 

So, how was your day?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 04:01 | link | comments (10) |

The Interview Meme

 

From Hamstermotor.  Here are the rules, copied shamelessly from his blog:

1. Leave me a comment saying “interview me”. The first five commenters will be the participants.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions.
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. (Write your own questions or borrow some.)

Ok, and the results:

 

1. You are about to be a mom. How are you going to choose a name?  

 

Well, I can tell you that I will not chose a name with a funky spelling, as the current trend seems to be.  I won't spell the name phonetically and subject my child to a lifetime of correcting the spelling of his/her name.  For example - Aimee, Rebekah, Nikole, Emilee - You get the idea.  The name will be simple, unique but not overly so, and easy to pronounce and spell.  Oh, and he/she won't be named after anyone I know.  I already have an idea for a girl name, but not a boy. 

2. Kenya or Sleep-Walk?

 

Kenya, all the way.  Sleep-Walk was not for me.  I kept thinking it was a joke and that a scary picture would pop out and scream as soon as I got lulled by the music.  Kenya wins based solely on the name of the tour bus company.  What was it?  "Holy Crap!  Lions! Tours"?

3. Your baby has already been causing all sorts of havoc on your life. How will you take revenge: nothing but sailor's uniforms until the 7th grade, or other devious methods of vengeance?

 

Ha!  (Note to self:  Stop complaining so much)  Poor baby is destined to a sad fate of living in various forms of firefighter clothing.  Is that not enough?  My most devious method of vengeance is to spit on a tissue and then use it to clean a little one's face.  {Insert evil laughter here}

4. My grandma once said to my mom, "I wish your kids act just like you did." My mom says to me and my sister constantly, "I never wished that on you guys. Behave though, or I will." Are you planning on dropping the Mama Curse on your child?

 

Hmmm.  Tough call.  I was quite a well behaved child. (No matter what anyone else tells you)  I respected my parents, went to school, got reasonable grades, obeyed curfew, avoided major trouble, and all that other stuff.  Ryan, on the other hand, was absolutely horrible as a child.  (Or so I'm told)  Now today, he's an exceptional, well adjusted adult and by comparison, I'm just a big old mess.  So, since my theory is that rotton children turn into wonderful adults, I won't wish the Mama curse on my child, but maybe the Papa Curse isn't out of the question.

 

5. As predicted by a Koranic scholar, in 2007 a great flood of radioactive llama milk washes over America and mutates all of us into llama superheros. Which llama superhero do you become?

 

With any luck I'll become the llama with bionic hearing.  I'm a professional eavesdropper and a skill like that sure would come in handy.  But sadly, my current super power seems to be the bionic sense of smell, which is just good for nothing.  I don't recomment it.

 

Ok, who's next?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 21:57 | link | comments (7) |

I've accidently made a colossal discovery.  My prenatal vitamins have been making me violently ill.  This is very exciting.  Not just because I haven't actually left my house since Tuesday morning, or even because I have been considering moving a blanket and pillow to the bathroom and possibly investing in one of those cushy toilet seat covers, but because I can control this.  Which means that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  I just got a call back from the nurse at my doctor's office who told me to start taking Flintstone's vitamins instead.  The chewable kind.  I can do that. 

 

I've been in a vicious cycle of not eating and being very, very sick, but thinking it was ok as long as I was taking my vitamins.  See the problem?  In any sense, last night I forgot to take one, and I slept all night long for the first time since Monday night.  Tuesday I started taking those evil horse pills.

 

So, I've been fueling up on cocaine and whiskey pretzels and ginger ale, and I think I'm going to live.  This is very exciting.  Don't get me wrong, I don't feel good.   Not by any stretch of the imagination.  I just feel like I might survive.

 

Remember when I said that I wasn't going to be one of those people who get pregnant and talk about nothing else?  Yeah, I totally lied.  I'm sorry.  It's just that it's the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I close my eyes, and everything else seems kind of unimportant.

 

Here's another thought - Until this week I never realized how many people blog about sex and/or food.  Since I cannot enjoy either of those things at the moment, I wish you would all knock it off. 

 

Ok, I'm off to think about non-pregnancy related things to write about.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:20 | link | comments (6) |

Insert your own meaningful, lovely poetry here. 

I'm just too tired. 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 23:30 | link | comments (10) |

Today I had my very first pre-natal doctor appointment, which I was going to tell you all about, but I can't because I feel horrible.  Whoever named it morning sickness was a man.  A man who had heard pregnant women described, but never actually saw one up close. 

 

Anyway, here's a recap:  All is well.  Baby's due December 3rd.  That's enough.

 

They give out gifts on your first appointment.  A diaper bag filled with all kinds of goodies.  There's a letter, a form letter - but still, a letter adressed to you from your baby.  When you start the think about it, the power you have to create this whole human being who wasn't there before, it makes you a little bit crazy.  A person.  There's a person living inside of me!  Excuse me.  It's just weird.

 

I was thinking that if there were a bunch of men on "Fear Factor", or some show just like it, and the challenge was that they had to carry a person around inside them for nine months, and then push it out, none of them could do it. 

 

Anyway, better than the doctor's office gifts is baby's first real gift, from Ryan's captain:

 

This is so small, and so cute, and so much like so much of Ryan's wardrobe that I almost can't even stand it.  Look at the back:

 

Teehee!  Keep back 200 feet.  LOVE it.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 22:42 | link | comments (14) |

It's just sad:

 

Thank you Butterfly, for keeping me honest.   Due to your diligence, there's still some left.    Thankfully, it's not even appealing to me anymore.  I guess a four day chocolate binge will do that to you.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 17:51 | link | comments (1) |

Today is our anniversary.  One year ago we went on our first date.  I went back and read my blog entry from this day one year ago, and I don't even recognize that girl.  She's anxious and grieving and afraid of her own shadow.  She's unsettled.  She's not in control of her life.  Who's that?  Not me. 

 

I'm afraid of things; Spiders and mean looking dogs and closed in places, but I'm not afraid of life anymore.  I don't let life happen to me anymore, I happen to it.  I create my own paths, my own fun, my own beauty.  Life is too short to just take what it throws your way.  All his influence, not mine.

 

I want to walk in the pouring rain, just because we can.  One year from now, we won't be able to be as spontanious as we are now.  Sudden trips to the store will suddenly take a lot of planning.  If we eat out, we'll learn to eat quicky, before the window of opportunity slips by.  Everything will require more planning than "Let's go for a walk.  Later, we'll go to the bookstore."  I stayed in bed, wondering how much we would miss that.  With a pang of guilt, I wondered if we were making a mistake.  Maybe this would change us into people that we don't recognize anymore.  What if we're too selfish and too set in our carefree ways to be parents?

 

Then he came home, after working all day and all night, and kneeled down beside the bed.  I thanked him for the flowers.  He said "I didn't send you any flowers" and he winked and smiled and kissed me with his hand on my belly.  Then he kissed my belly and cupped his hands and said "Good Morning, Baby."

 

Nah, we're going to be just fine.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:02 | link | comments (8) |

Yep, that's me.  I swore to myself that I wasn't going to get fooled this year.  I've been on guard since midnight last night, suspicious of everyone.   Sadly, my parananoia didn't pay off.  So, I bring to you this edition of April Fool's Day, 2005:  The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.  (Not necessarily in that order)

 

The Bad:  My evil boss.  I've been having a hard time with this client lately.  She's just really annoying and demanding, and the things she demands are quite literally impossible.  Anyway, she sent me an unusually nasty email this morning, and copied my boss and a few other relevant people.  Before I could reply to her, my boss forwarded it to me, with the message "Who peed in her Cheerios?"  Ok, whatever.  Then I get a reply from her that says "I beg your pardon?"  OMG!  He hit "Reply to All" instead of "Forward" when he sent his message to me.  I sat here in a cold sweat, wondering what to do, thanking God it wasn't ME who'd done that, for about ten minutes.  Then mean client called me, and I started to play it off like I hadn't even read his email yet because I had no idea what else to do, and she just started cracking up, with stupid boss on the line too.  They set me up!!  Every year he gets me, and every year I swear he won't get me next year.  So now, I say it again - There's no WAY I'm falling for his crap again next year.  Ugh!

 

The Ugly:  I had a dentist appointment this afternoon.  Just a regular cleaning and check up type thing.  Being a little bit paranoid (no kidding, huh?) I wouldn't let him do x-rays.  But he did his exam, with a lot more thoughtfulness than usual.  Then he called his partner over, and they had a loud discussion in the hallway, and the partner came in with his little hook and looked around.  Partner asked what happened, had I been in a car accident or something?  No!  My dentist said I had five cavities, and would need to get them worked on immediately.  He started looking on his computer for available appointments while I sat there in shock.  I don't get cavities.  I haven't had a single cavity since my adult teeth came in.  I floss like a maniac, for goodness sake!  My dentist asked if I had good dental insurance, and I do, and his partner said "Good, you're gonna need it." and he laughed just the tiniest bit.  Evil, EVIL men!!!  I'm changing dentists.  I swear I am.

 

Ok, and finally, The GOOD!!!  Best April Fool's Day joke EVER!:

 

Pretty, right?  They just arrived.  Look at the card that came with them:

 

That Derek, how did he know that tulips were my favorite?  SO sweet.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 01:31 | link | comments (9) |

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