I’m totally down with this one. Not my religion either, but a lovely song.
I like the song Silent Night though I’m a moslem. I wonder if that’s okay :–/
I’m totally down with this one. Not my religion either, but a lovely song.
I like the song Silent Night though I’m a moslem. I wonder if that’s okay :–/
What older kid didn’t react like this at some point?
When my parents brought home my baby sister, after holding her, I told them they could take her back.
Among the reasons I’m glad I’m a guy is that our culture really isn’t pushing me into pretending I’m a size I’m not. Here’s a random thing from the other side of the gender divide:
Because if I wanted to spend my entire paycheck on a bra for some reason, Victoria’s Secret’s sizing is as follows: For underwear, take whatever size you’ve worn your entire adult life and purchase the one 4 sizes below it. This is to make you feel like your butt is smaller, because we’re all concerned about that, right? Then take your bra size and add 4 inches and at least one cup size, so you feel like your boobs are bigger. Obviously, we all want giant boobs. Or, you can just do like I did and live with too-big underwear and a too-small bra because you don’t want to return to the store for a 3rd time to exchange the bra you should have just tried on at the store but didn’t think you needed to since you’ve worn the same bra size for 7 years… and returning underwear is gross and probably not allowed, anyway.
Not that I’ve got much of a clue about fashion, but this seems a little out of order:
I pick out my necklace before the rest of my outfit.
OK, you tell me what you think this one means:
Don’t play dumb with me. I’m not dumb. Never underestimate me. I may be someone you never think I am.
If this is what she thinks now, I’d love to see what she thinks in, say, ten years:
When i’m excited about something, all i get after that will be just disappointment.
(It always happen)
I love these tips!
My proudest recent achievements have been persuading my picky-eater daughter to eat dry All-Bran Flakes by calling them … wait for it … Breakfast Chips. Sheer brilliance.
I also, after 7 nights in a row of her eating pesto on spaghetti (and only if we called the pasta noodles), beat her at her own game and duped her into eating risotto by calling it ‘little tiny noodles’ (to be said in a cutesy-pie voice). She wolfed it down. Go Parents!