I've been sitting in front of my computer for hours. Literally hours, trying to find the exact shade of brown I'd like for this text to be, and worrying about what I would write in my very first post to the world. Of course, I don't have any followers, so it is likely that my current self-inflicted tizzie really only impacts one person - ME.
There is the possibility that it also affects Little She, my three-year-old shadow who REALLY thinks that the letters I'm typing on the computer should be pink.
In fact, when I left the laptop for a few minutes, she did manage to change the font to a perfect shade of bubble gum. The necessary background information here is that Little She is not allowed to have bubble gum until she's five. Therefore, everything she does revolves around this futuristic time in which she will be able to chew gum. Her room is bubble gum pink, her rug is bubble gum pink, she tells the checkout ladies at our grocery that she only has two more birthdays until she can chew bubble gum. I wouldn't be surprised if she went into public relations for the National Bubble Gum Council.
There is the possibility that it also affects Little She, my three-year-old shadow who REALLY thinks that the letters I'm typing on the computer should be pink.
In fact, when I left the laptop for a few minutes, she did manage to change the font to a perfect shade of bubble gum. The necessary background information here is that Little She is not allowed to have bubble gum until she's five. Therefore, everything she does revolves around this futuristic time in which she will be able to chew gum. Her room is bubble gum pink, her rug is bubble gum pink, she tells the checkout ladies at our grocery that she only has two more birthdays until she can chew bubble gum. I wouldn't be surprised if she went into public relations for the National Bubble Gum Council.
This bubble gum age limit seemed like a fabulous rule when I came up with it on the spur of the moment. I was faced with a near disastrous situation involving a bubble gum laden treat bag that she brought home from Preschool. All I could focus on was the certainty of a bubble gum covered minivan and no way to take it away from her while still keeping the car within the margins of my lane. I simply stated the new rule, and she, albeit surprisingly, obliged.
The down side of having the power to make all the rules is that you then have to live with the consequences of said rules. As I continue to sit in the driver's seat nodding my head through the interminable discussions surrounding bubble gum, I begin to have second thoughts on the pleasures of rule making.
I believe I miscalculated her obsession.
Then again, maybe Little She and I are more alike than I'd like to admit at times.
The text is a lovely shade of brown, though. Isn't it?
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