Twirly girl

Summer is finally here.

It has been a cool June, in the 50s at night, but it hit the 90s today and it hasn't fallen much from that since. The fans are out, and I'm missing the hum of window ACs.

It is still not nearly as hot as I have known it in Florida or even as hot as it was when I was there a couple weeks ago. My dad and I were watching the 11 o'clock news and he offered to put in the window AC in my bedroom.

"Dad, this is nothing. I'm comfortable."

"I'm sweating my ass off sitting here!" he bellows.

I can take the heat, I just can't take the cold. But still, as any good mom will do for her kid on a Saturday afternoon in mid-June with nothing else to do, I forced my dad to take his truck to Toys R Us to get her a proper plastic pool.


Look at that elephant pool!


We then visited my cousin, and Zoe and Regina hung out in the HOT TUB. Yes, all 98 degrees of it.


Look at that porpoise toy!

Then we came home and made a cake for my dad. His birthday was Thursday, but we often -- if not always -- exercise the option to celebrate his aging years along with Father's Day.


That's some cake batter!


OK, if you've gotten this far and looked at that many pictures of my kid, you are hoping this blog will get better, wondering why my photo captions have a diversional quality to them, or both. Or maybe you just notice the child looks... odd.

I hacked off her hair.

Before examining the photos more closely, sideways, and upside-down, realize it didn't look that good when I took a stab at it. After a horrible attempt at a layered bob last night, I had to run around today looking for anyone who would take a walk-in to get the mess fixed. I thought about putting a before-the-stylist-got-to-it photo here, but I don't want to embarrass the poor child if the picture ends up archived somewhere forever. Zoe is aware that she got a haircut and cackled giddily as inches and inches of her locks fell to the bathroom floor, but she has no idea about the wrath her mother unleashed on her head.

That is, until we were in the car tonight, and, as Zoe often does when she's tired, she tried to twirl her hair. I heard her audibly suck in her breath in the back seat. "Mommy! I can't twirl my hair! I'm like a BOY! Am I a boy or a girl now?"

She fell asleep shortly after that. I wonder what the hell she is dreaming about tonight.


Audrey, who had finished her appointments for the day and was probably about to leave work early, fixes Mom's idea of a haircut.