Sometimes you are just in the right place at the right time.
This was one of those times.
They offered. I asked her. The answer was yes. And that's how Aubrey ended up on the Iowa news weather report. She was a superstar. A mini-sized superstar.
(I tried to get the actual video off the website, but no luck. Big time bummer. But this one will have to do.)
Number 1: If you really want to know if a dress makes you look fat, ask your 3 year old. She'll tell the truth. (I learned this the harsh way when Brooklyn told me, "Mom, I think your have a brother in your tummy." Oh, Brooklyn - if only.)
Number 2: Thinking you can eat at The Cheesecake Factory on a Saturday night is wishful thinking.
Number 3: It doesn't matter where you eat if you're with people you like. Number 4: If you buy your husband a sparkly tie that matches your dress, you will not hear the end of it. (Feel free to leave a comment with references to "Dancing with the Stars" outfits, figure skating costumes, and/or the Miss America Pageant Host look-alike jokes. But just know, we've heard it all before.) Number 5: Try your outfit on more than 10 minutes before you're supposed to leave. I almost had to call an audible when I tried on the dress/jacket combo I had been planning on. Hideous. (Not that the under-dress black shirt was all that much better...) Number 6: The "Senior Prom Picture Re-creation" will turn out just as retarded as you think it will. We are so not cool. Number 7: Screen your doctors. There were some girls (and guys) there last night that I would not trust with a plastic fork from my kid's tea set. When you see future doctors that are so drunk they can hardly walk, it'll make you think twice about getting surgery.
Number 8: Dancing is only fun when done with whole-hearted, reckless abandon. And then it's a blast.
And I'm not talking about the cuddly one that's stuffed with fluff. I'm talking about the one that is brown and stinky.
Lately, poo has been taking over my life. Because, you see, daughter #2 (whom we love dearly) is half-way potty trained.
And I bet you can guess which half.
So, it was a small miracle when a few days ago Aubrey came sprinting out of the bathroom exclaiming that there was a snake in the toilet! And when I went to check it out, that snake was, in fact, a poo. There was a celebration in this house that rivaled the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. It involved a victory dance, more than one kind of candy, and me carrying Aubrey through the house on my shoulders (like they do in "Rudy.") Because if you had been cleaning poo out of underwear everyday for last month, you would celebrate too. But, the next day, we were back to the poo underwear. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!?! Well, friends. This is how it is possible. There are certain "conditions" under which Aubrey will go in the toilet. #1: No one can know she is going. She will just secretly slither away from the group, tip toe down the hall as quietly as possible, and silently shut the door. #2: You must not ask, imply, suggest, recommend, or hint that she should go poo. #3: If anyone enters the bathroom while Aubrey is "in session," the deal is off.
We learned all of this the hard way, but fortunately, we learned it. And (not including nursery today - the teachers weren't informed about "the conditions"), we've been accident free for 3 days.
It was the worst of times. (nap time before lunch)
And there we were. I was in a corner of the mall play area chatting with a friend. And then I looked over. Both of you were side by side snuggled up inside a tunnel. The other children raced around laughing and squealing, but you didn't even notice them. You were busy talking. Brooklyn pointed out something interesting. And Aubrey looked. And then Brooklyn said something funny. And Aubrey laughed. And then Brooklyn put her arm around Aubrey. And Aubrey smiled. And I wish I could even begin to convey all the emotions that were wrapped up in that tiny little smile. Adoration, devotion, admiration. Love.
Such an ordinary moment. And yet, such an extraordinary one.
It was one of those moments that I wished I could freeze-frame. (You know - like they used to do on "Saved By the Bell"?) I wished that I could pause the scene like a movie and just stare at the screen for a little while. Because I know it won't always be like this. I know the teen-age years are gradually approaching and the days of clothes-borrowing and boyfriend-stealing will be upon us before we know it.
And I hope more than anything, that when that time comes, there will still be those moments. Moments when I will find two sisters sitting next to each other with their heads together laughing at some shared joke while the rest of the world runs by and misses it.
Remember a few months ago and my post about the "How To..." column?
Well, it's back.
Lucky you.
How to create the perfect Krispy Kreme by Brooklyn and Aubrey Webb
Step #1: Gather a huge group of some of the coolest people you know and throw around terms like: "glazed," "sprinkles," "deep-fried." The good ones will follow with no questions asked.
Step #2: Run around the restaurant at FULL SPEED to work up your appetite.
Step #3: Wear gloves. Because according to some people - "germs are gross."
Step #4:Pick up doughnut. (This is easier said than done.) Insert doughnut in vat of swirling chocolate.
Step #5: Cover entirely with sprinkles. If you can see any hint of bread or chocolate glaze, you must re-insert in sprinkles. (Remember the golden rule:with kids and sprinkles, enough is never enough.)
Step #6: Smile. (P.S. How do I make these faces STOP!?! Every time the camera is out, this is what happens.) (P.S. This picture deserves it's very own post with yet another Aubrey-look-a-like. Does anyone else see a Gremlin?!?)
Step #7: Eat the doughnut off the table. Hands are optional. (It's a Krispy Kreme, people. There is no time to waste on manners.)
