I have kept some of these "Not Me!" moments to myself, and can no longer contain myself.
I did not tell Justine that she was finally tall enough to go down the slide at the Family Center... I did not celebrate with her and jump up and down all happy for her.
She did not go down that slide a million times.
The lifeguard did not appear to shake her head and look puzzled as I encouraged Jus to go again and again and again.
And at the end of the day, when I wanted a picture, just for posterity's sake, ... I did not realize there must have been a parallax error from where I was sitting. I had not been encouraging my too small child to go on a waterslide she most definitely was not tall enough to go on. OOPS.
I did not drive all over Kansas City on a wild goose chase looking for a prom dress which is definitely not made of burlap and satin for a certain girl who is absolutely a burlap and satin kind of girl...
(If any of you readers live anywhere near an Anthropologie Store anywhere other than Kansas City... give me an email... there could be a prize in it if you can find the dress we are looking for...)
I did not parallel park my Expedition in Country Club Plaza in Kansas City, going backwards up a hill into this tinsy, tiny spot...
I did not almost hit that Mercedes...
And no, I was not completely in the middle of the road.
I definitely did not get out and take a picture of my handy work.
And the people walking past my parking job did not laugh and point at me.
OK, this one is totally not for the weak stomached readers. And please do not think less of me after this confession.
Let's say somewhere around the first of the year, like maybe January, our second refrigerator in the garage died. It didn't cough or sputter or blink or make a funny noise... it just absolutely died.
Let's also say that we had not put all of our Christmas left overs in that said fridge.
Perhaps I didn't think about the tons and tons of leftovers in there, or perhaps I was feeling a bit lazy or even a little scared of what I might find.
Let's just say that I didn't open the door of that fridge for, oh let's say,... 4 months...
Well I did not "clean" that refrigerator out this week... and when I say clean, I mean throw away all the good baking dishes and call someone to come pick up the "black mold encrusted appliance."
I also did not take a picture of what 4 month old left over at room temperature sweet potato pie looks like.
I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't generally post pictures of myself.
I definitely would never post an unflattering picture of myself in an old swimsuit.
I can't even believe I'm posting this and if I get any coupons for weight watchers or whale watching, I'm never going to blog to any of you again.
But I definitely did not attempt to climb across this great abyss at the Great Wolf Lodge in Kansas City last week. I did not fall, screaming like a sissy, sucking in half that pool, and scaring the entire population of children to death.
I did not break down and get my (supposedly) 12 year old (and when I say supposedly, I mean supposedly 12, not supposedly my son) son a cell phone for his birthday. I did not actually say that I thought texting would improve his spelling skills and that having a phone would improve his social anxiety.
He was not really happy... for at least a week.
After the Ethiopian pout of today, I do not want to shove that phone where the sun doesn't shine.