MOTHERHOOD RIGHT NOW / RIP MULLET

Oh is there anything more tragic than a misplaced wad of chewed up bubblegum!!!!???

Poor puppy.

We were at the AT&T store, for some reason. I'm not sure that we accomplished anything particularly important while at the AT&T store now that I think about it, except that I happened to discover a giant wad of stale old bubblegum smooshed into the back of my kid's head while I was absentmindedly running my hands through his rattail.

(We do this sometimes for luck, it's sort of like rubbing a rabbit's foot.)

Huck had me take a photo of it so he could see what it looked like, which is something he has taken to doing lately any time he is somewhere without a mirror and needs to see something about himself. 

"Mom, take a picture."

I obliged.

The irony here is that just two days prior I was reminding him of the responsibilities that come with being a gum chewer. It was during my bi-weekly request to puh-leeease let me cut your hair, or at least trim it into a tidier shape, but Huck is a man who knows his mind and his mind is liking the mullet, so he said "No, thank you," and I said, "Well just be sure not to get gum in your hair, because if you do, we'll have no choice in the matter." Snip snip.

I'd tell you I said a silent prayer just then that he would get gum stuck in his hair, but that might make me look like a not-so-nice mom, so, I won't. 

(But I did.)

Aren't you glad I thought to take this picture last week to immortalize the rattail in all it's masterful glory?

I am.

(Also, old cowboys eating huckleberry ice cream. Swoon, dammit!)

Huck understood his fate--peanut butter or no peanut butter the hair had to go--so when the time came after we'd pointlessly left the AT&T store and I'd finally located the scissors, he looked at me with a pure fire of courage in his eyes and he said, bravely, "Cut it, mom."

Fiiiiiinally.

And now! Presenting! EmoHuck.

I swear, get that boy some mousse and he's ready to join The Cure. 

I made sure to keep the all-important swoosh safely intact. Huck's pretty thrilled with it. Sometimes I think his new hair reminds me of something, but I can't put my finger on it. 

One of my readers could. She sent me this:

BINGO

Anyway, it's my anniversary today.

I done been married twelve years. How does that make you feel inside? Old? Me too.

But! The good news is that Brandon, Professor The Holbs at WSU, officially a cougar again (go cougs!), will training the brightest young minds this fall in the ways of the Excel spreadsheets, making me the official MILF of the accounting department. (Yes it does.) This means I get to practice my flirting skills on the youth of America again.

Which makes me a cougar, too! (Get it?)

Such a bright spot on my horizon. Add a gold start to my Lucille Bluth chart. 

Anyway, in conclusion, here is my husband looking a bit like Chris Pratt. 

WINNING!

I love you Beebs! Happy ambliversary!