Or is she just a dope?
This was taken at the same kid’s play as fashion dad. This place was blogger heaven. And what a perfect mother’s day post #1 (#2 will be the sentimental one where I refrain from parent bashing).
First, let’s run by the definitions of dope.
There is the Webster version, surprisingly puts drugs above stupidity:
I like to think that the last one is really ‘the poop’, but hey, I tend to lean towards bathroom humor.
Moving to Urban Dictionary with their many versions of the drug definition, culminating with this one which is my favorite:
Good old Smokey is one angry dude but he uses Gary’s favorite term, rat’s ass, so I love him x 10.
Then there is the definition that something dope is something cool (I am guessing this is the one she was going for). But we can’t rule out the fact that this mom could have just been… a dope. With the need to let everyone know.
Today’s dad has so little time in his day. But that does not mean he has to rush off to his kid’s play without looking his best.
This guy has got it goin’ on. Pairing a Long Island Carpet Recycling black long-sleeved T with those classic – never go out of style – half camo, baggy shorts is a big win. The black kicks with the matching black no-show socks are the obvious choice for spring footwear.
But nothing says, ‘hey, I am the ultimate family man’ like finishing this ensemble off with a Coach diaper bag.
It is so very clear to me that he is on the phone with his wife to find out where she put his penis.
Ok, that was mean, I just had to go for the obvious laugh. Admit you were all thinking the same thing. And don’t start getting all dads are equal parents and there is nothing sexier than a dad taking care of his kids on me. That was my life in a big way and we wouldn’t have done it any other way.
I just had a more gender neutral diaper bag.
How can that be? One minute you are obsessing over nursery school and then you turn around and you have been at this for 24 years. And by some miracle you haven’t messed them up.
Yes, kiddies, today marks the 24th birthday of my girl. And oh what a difference a year makes. Since 23 she has found her dream job, moved into her own apartment and learned to balance a tight budget.
There is so much I can say about her, but mostly I want to thank her for being such a good sport about posing, for always being there to make me laugh and most of all for constantly reminding me why I was put on this earth.
To be a mom.
I love you Petuney; and I could not be any prouder of who you have become. May this be your best year ever!
Being a family of women who are not known for our love of shopping, Jana and I try to do little things along the way to entertain ourselves.
As we were walking through Century 21 (the discount store, not the realtor for those who were confused last week), we came across a rack of fur jackets and dresses. As I was snapping away, my dear, sweet, thoughtful daughter uttered the words every blog mother dreams of, “Do you want me to try this on so you can get a shot of it?”
Being the coy blogger and considerate mother that I am, I asked, “Do you mind if I do a post on this?” Her response? “When I offer to do something like this it is understood that you want to blog about it.”
Damn I love that kid.
We have always held to the idea that women are slaves to fashion and will wear just about anything that the fashion gods tell them is chic. This dress was no exception, until Jana tried it on. She said, “Hey, I get why people would want to wear this. It is soft and warm.”
This style has a certain prehistoric charm to it, don’t you think?
Wishing you all a very happy start to the best season of the year.
Take off your shoes, paint your toes any color your heart desires, go to the beach, do a little gardening, surf, sail, bike, play golf, tennis or whatever endorphin inducing pastime you can think of, BBQ, put the top down, play the music real loud, eat outside, unplug, read paper, play with your kids, your dog, your cat, your sloth (for you American Idol watchers) drink a little too much, sleep late, eat ice cream, turn on the sprinkler (not just for the kids) and most of all…
Happy Memorial Day and may you wear white pants with a clear conscience.
Ahhh… the zebra head hoodie; no wardrobe is complete without one.
What the hell? Who is responsible for this design? And who approved it? And who, on this planet would find themselves needing to own this?
Where do you wear such a thing? Trip to the zoo? East Village? Zebratown? (that’s a neighborhood, isn’t it?)
I know, way too many questions. (great, now someone is definitely going to buy me one of these as a gag gift, right?)
I know, only I could run across a french bulldog with a pleather Biker Dude jacket in Home Depot.
On a Monday night.
In the suburbs.
Because, my friends, I attract this sort of thing. And I fully accept my lot in life and whole-heartedly embrace the responsibility to share this with those of you who are less fortunate in the ways of crazy occurrence in daily living.
Or just don’t carry a camera. Or a smartphone. Or – we can’t rule out – don’t care enough to document (shame on the last category)
Sunday I came across a ridiculous man with a dog in a stroller in the Bloomingdales shoe department. The next day I meet a foreigner with a biker bulldog in Home Depot. That makes sense, right? I am usually a firm believer that pets do not belong in clothing. They already have a coat, if you put one over it they might get overheated. Except in the case of my dear dog friend Penny, she just gets a little chilly and needs something to warm her up in her old age.
But since this coat was so spectacular I loosened my rule and started a conversation with the guy:
Me: OMG can I take a picture of your dog?
Guy: Um, I guess so (heavy slavic accent)
Me: He seems to like wearing it.
Guy: Yes, he does.
Me: Where did you get such a thing?
Guy: (with a much thicker accent than I thought he had at first.) Wal-Mart.
And there you have it kids. Another day in the life.