Dress Drama

Found prom dress,  It covers a lot of real estate except for those slippery slopes called shoulders.  Found seamstress (my neighbor, Terryl, who will probably be putting a for sale sign in front of her house if I ask her to do one more thing. . .), but can't find matching fabric.  So, I am home alone worrying about sleeves while Cool Beans is out worrying about boys.  I would put on the dress, take a picture and include it with this post, but you would probably spew because old woman in prom dress is so Uncle Ricoish.

Besides, I tried that once and it didn't work out so well.  Daughter #1 was a few weeks away from getting married.  I had just buried my mother, literally.  Okay, I didn't actually shovel the dirt, but you know what I mean.  I was home alone and a friend stopped by.  We got talking about the wedding and she asked to see the dress.  Seeing it on a hanger wasn't good enough; she wanted to see it on my daughter who was not home.  So in my grief-stricken, numb-minded state, she talked me into putting it on.  At least that's the story I'm going with.

I dropped my clothes on the family room floor and climbed, yes climbed--it was very poofy--into the dress.  We could even zip it up but only because daughter #1 inherited her chest from my sister-in-law Sharee, which is another story. 

But I digress. 

I was standing in a ginormous, puffy marshmallow swirl, when the doorbell rang.

My friend answered the door prepared to tell whichever one of my children's friends it was that whoever they wanted wasn't home.  Because the door is never for me unless it's a salesman or my friend who wants me to try on wedding dresses.

Instead she poked her head around the corner and said, "Jill, it's for you.  It's the stake president (equivalent to a Catholic Bishop).  He and his wife are here to make sure you are e-mo-tion-al-ly sound."  

So, they sat on the couch and I sat across from them looking like a toilette papering job gone bad while I assured them that I was physically, spiritually, and e-mo-tion-al-ly sound. 

So in a nutshell, that is why I won't be trying on the prom dress.

Besides, I'm not really confident about the whole zipper thing because this dress is more of the form-fitting type and not-so-much of the poofy type which was more daughter #1 and #2s' style.  So, in a buttshell, the dress will remain in the closet and my fragile ego will remain in my sweat pants.

Blahgging

Blah.  Blahgging.  I mean blogging, which in case you haven't noticed I haven't done for a spell because folks, I've been busy. 

First our whole family spoke in church which requires a wee bit of perspiration preparation.  This phenomenon happens when you think things like, Quin and Bree are blessing their baby, the cute LILA in case you've forgotten, I hope the speakers are good and then your phone rings. . ." 

For the those of you who haven't been to an L.D.S. (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints/Mormon--and holy canoly if I didn't just find out that my whole life I thought I was a Christian but according to Pastor Robert Jeffress I'm not-- but that's another blog) sacrament meeting/church service we have a lay ministry which means sometimes people like me are asked to speak in church which usually gives people like you a good laugh especially when I don't wear matching shoes or when my daughter, yes Cool Beans, tells the whole congregation that I am pregnant and everybody looks horrified--- and then she says just kidding, my mom's too old to have a baby and everybody laughs hysterically because what could be funnier than the thought of a 46 year old woman with a bun in the oven?

But before I was roasted in church, I spent Saturday cleaning up the Pleasant Green Cemetery in Magna, UT with 150 youth because that's what us Mormon cult members do to raise cain on a Saturday morning in October if we're not making soap with our sister-wives.  Sheesh.

Then that evening, my second oldest daughter who has never had a boy-friend until this past summer, was proposed to by the very charming Landon Benson who treats her like she is the reason he breathes--sigh . . .  So now I am planning a wedding when I can't even plan dinner.  But at the end of the day we eat something, so the wedding will be good, right?  Or at least we won't be hungry.

This is the first time ANYBODY has seen Cassie kiss someone or something besides her pet bird.  It looks like she's knows what she's doing. . .

Next I went to see my cute grandkids in Phoenix, adorable Charlotte who thinks she is a Lion and Marcus who is the epitome of squishy goodness and gets goose bumps when I stroke his cheek.  I also shot some large, powerful assault (is there any other kind?) rifles at targets which I was 100% accurate at missing.  But I looked "bad" which my kids tell me is good.

I also got introduced to this thing called Pinterest which is like Google crack especially when you are planning a wedding, or making thinking about making dinner, or avoiding blogging.