Friday, December 03, 2010

Recent Pics

 Making a sign for Daddy's triumphant return from Guatemala.
 Windy night = Lots of tape.
 The breakfast in bed promised if Zach slept in. 9:00 a.m. - woo-hoo!
 Have an old window? You have a cute Christmas decoration.
The table I decorated for our ladies dessert gala at church. Cheesecake, friends and lots of laughter.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

A Few of my Favorite Things

Going to ArtPrize with my man.
The view out my bedroom window.
A perfect dahlia.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Home Alone

(Honestly, this is the only time he was quiet this summer.)

All three kids are in school full-time this year. Weird. I've discovered some things I love about it and some things I don't and have made a few funny discoveries along the way.
  1. The clock above my computer ticks. Loudly. Who knew?
  2. If all your kids are at school, you're stuck on the toilet if you run out of t.p. (Luckily I'm a quick thinker and resourceful. 'Nuff said?) 
  3. You find yourself saying "yes" to just about every volunteer position and then start second guessing your sanity.
  4. I can read a book in the middle of the day if I want. Now on to read worthwhile and edifying material!
  5. You don't need the childcare at the gym anymore. Sigh.
  6. The laundry is no longer your nemesis but rather, your daily companion.
  7. You can meet your husband for lunch. Most days. Fun!
  8. You have time for prayer. You + God = some pretty great quiet time spent together.
  9. Your hair is done and your workout is in by noon.
  10. After school becomes your favorite time of day.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

This Boy Needs a Brother

I don't know why Paige made him be the girl partner in this dance but I'm glad I got the camera out for this show. Sorry Zach!

Friday, August 27, 2010

Tired

Prepare yourself. In our fun filled, packed out, extraordinary summer I'm going to complain about a few things I'm tired of. Don't worry; it'll be fun!


  1. Washing bathing suits and towels and hanging them up over every available kitchen chair and outdoor chair to dry. If we smell like a lake next time you see us in our suits, you'll know I put my foot down.
  2. Lady Gaga (that just has to be said, right?)
  3. Katy Perry (ditto to that California girl.)
  4. Gaining weight over the summer. Hello? How come the season where I wear the least amount of clothes I decide to gain weight in? Oh yeah, ice cream. I guess I answered my own question.
  5. Packing picnic lunches. In June it's so exciting and new again but by late August I just tell my friends, I'll meet you after lunch.
  6. Putting sunscreen on the kids. I have the most moisturized hands in West Michigan. I should just stop being so cheap and buy the spray but that stuff lasts about one week with three kids.
  7. Mosquitos and bees.
  8. Kids in and out of my house all.day.long. I'm not ready to see my baby enter 1st grade this fall however.
  9. Burgers and hotdogs.
  10. And finally, I'm tired of not doing my hair. I've been riding the wave (and ponytails) for so long that I actually look forward to fussing with it again. I guess this proves that I have some girly in my tomboy.

Monday, August 09, 2010

Sisters

I have four older sisters. Yep. You read that correctly. My mom and dad had five girls in six years & three months time. Yep. You read that right too. So when I asked my girls how their life would look different after going to a Christian summer camp and they answered that they felt like they had grown closer as sisters, you can understand how that made my heart sing.

I love my sisters. I love that God gave me two girls who I could watch grow up together as sisters. And even though I tease my sisters that they are the reason I hung out with boys all through high school, (they set the bar way too high for other adolescent girls) I feel so blessed that they modeled to me how to be in relationship with other women.

So love up your sisters. And if you don't have one, you can borrow one of mine. :)

Monday, July 05, 2010

Ordinary

So recently I was doing some heavy reading, the Parade insert from the Sunday Press, and came across this quote from Connie Schultz. "It takes courage to live ordinary lives." All my life I've pursued extraordinary as I'm sure you have too. I used to walk around my childhood home pretending that I was in a movie or at least the star of a really amazing show called my life. What I'm discovering is that ordinary is not only o.k., it's downright admirable. Marriage, parenting, faith, teaching, being in relationships with family and friends takes ordinary, hard work. 


When I was dating my husband in college he asked me why I picked him, an ordinary guy. I answered that by ourselves we were ordinary but together we were extraordinary. (Yep, you can cue the cheesy music now.) But I believe that. The way we love each other is special and different than any other couple.


Similarly, I think teaching elementary physical education is a rather ordinary job.  But how I teach and care about kids, showing them Christ's love is kingdom building work, right? I often feel inadequate after reading my college's alumni magazine. It highlights the really amazing things it's graduates are doing around the world; working at the North Pole, risking their lives to be missionaries in a hostile African community, discovering how a missing or defective gene can't deliver vitamin A to your eyes (huh, what?) and the list goes on and on. I admire these people for taking their education and radical ideas into the world and I understand that their work makes for really interesting articles. But I must admit that once in awhile I would like to read an article about a stay-at-home-mom who teaches Sunday school every week.


But I guess that's my story. And I can choose how to write it every day in all it's ordinary glory.

Monday, June 07, 2010

14 years of Wedded Bliss

Fourteen years ago today we naively stood in front of our friends and family and vowed to love each other for better or worse.  I say naively because we had no idea what marriage, family and life would bring us and all the "for better and worse" circumstances we would face together.  I am blessed to call this man my husband, lover (I know, get a room already), parenting partner and friend.  Here's to another 14 years and more Lover Lips!  (Seriously, could we have picked a cheesier nickname for each other and could my bouquet BE any bigger?)

Thursday, June 03, 2010

The big 9!

Our Zoey Elise turns 9 today!  Love ya Z.




Monday, May 17, 2010

Friday, May 14, 2010

The Many Faces of Zoey

She is known by many names; Zo-Zo, Z, Ziglet, and most recently Whee.  (The last one she hates and is only used by her big sister.  Consider yourself forewarned.)  In the past month she has had some kickin' pics taken.  Enjoy.

 

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Award Season

I don't usually use my blog to brag up my kids but they're really quite special and it's fun for us when someone else recognizes this.  In the past two weeks we've had many chances to sit back and say, "hey kid, you're great."  Paige was recognized by her teacher and her school for her high level of reading, Zoey had a piece of art work selected for the district wide art show, they both performed beautifully at their piano recital, Zoey scored a goal at her soccer game on Saturday and Paige is set to sing a solo at both church and school.  And Zach, he decided to start reading every book in sight.  All in all, we're proud parents because of all these accomplishments but we are the proudest of the character we see our kids displaying while they try and succeed at all these things.

Friday, April 23, 2010

I Promise

There are many things I wish for my children and some serious promises that me & their dad made when we became parents.  This list isn't it.  :)  These are promises that pop into my head as I think about raising my two daughters.  (Sorry Zach; hopefully dad is making some sort of list for you too.  I'm sure it involves Home Depot and the proper way to spit.  Wait, I may have to teach you that last one.)  


Dear Paige and Zoey,

  1. I promise to never make you get a perm.  And with this promise let me just add, I will never get out the photo albums of your teen years when we have company over.
  2. I promise to talk to you about your period.  (Period.)
  3. I promise to never poo-poo your "friend problems".  They feel huge, I get that.  And even though I never talk to any friends from late elementary school or middle school, I know that this is an important part of your social development.
  4. I promise to encourage your sense of style.  Even if that means you've clipped a braid across your head and you look like you've just walked out of a thrift store.
  5. I promise to not giggle while we have the sex talk.  (Like I did the last time.)
  6. I will not compare you to your sister in either physical appearance or personality.  This is a tough one because it's natural to notice differences in your children.  I promise to try however.
  7. I promise to not label you.  This goes with #6 but I just want you to know that your "box" is flexible, stretchy and will change as you change.
  8. I promise to let you borrow your Dad's sweaters to wear to school if that style comes back.  (Dear God, please let this style come back.)
  9. I promise to call you when you're a new mom and demand that you go to Starbucks by yourself while I watch the baby.
  10. I promise to love you.  Always.

Love Mom

Monday, April 19, 2010

Why I Love Men

O.K. the title of this post is a little strange and I'm thinking that maybe I should change it.  Nah.  Here are some reasons why I find men (grandpas, dads, husbands, brother-in-laws, nephews) so darn endearing.

  1. They grow out a beard for playoff season and refuse to shave until their team loses.  It doesn't matter that their wife & kids find it to be hideous; it's there until the fat lady sings.
  2. They cannot hear the children in the car calling their name, or screaming, and/or singing at the top of their lungs.  Seriously?  This is a gift or a curse depending on who you are in the car.
  3. They will give you a kiss right after you tell them your breath is bad.  Because let's face it ladies, we hear that and we are backing that kissing bus right up.
  4. They can and will re-wear underwear.
  5. They can lift heavy things.
  6. They borrow shoes for big events.  No need to shop when you have a family member who wears the same size.
  7. They know how to work the grill.
  8. They rarely cry but when they do it is one of the sweetest things you've ever witnessed.
  9. You know you will always smell prettier than them.
  10. And finally, because they are simply honest and most of the time uncomplicated.  God bless 'em for not using subtlety to try and tell you what they want.  (FYI:  it's a big screen t.v.)

 

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

My Heart Is Full

I continue to be amazed at how my heart can swell with love for my children and then two days later swell with sadness for someone going through a loss.  Really.  Isn't this the most fascinating, devastating and wonderful thing about being a human being?  Our capacity to love one another, hate one another, sympathize with each other and truly feel a whole range of emotions all within our little 'ole chest.  I've had one of those weeks.  The week began with a birthday lunch for my oldest daughter.  She was positively delightful.  (I know that sounds like an old lady word but I'm using it people.  When I start calling things "precious" then you can get concerned.)  Paige was giddy, excited and super animated as we sat across from each other eating our oh-so-delicious-Yesterdogs.  She kept thanking me for the lunch and her polite manners really made me think that maybe I don't all together stink at this mom thing.  After lunch we headed over to do a little antique shopping at Eastown Antiques and her shopping savvy and little comments made me feel like we were girlfriends just hanging out for the afternoon.  I drove away from her school with a full, full heart and I thanked God for the gift of my little girl who is growing up to be such a wonderful young woman.  (I sound old again, don't I?  Calling someone a "young person" is a sure sign I think.)

Then this morning I hear of a friend who is going through a loss.  Today.  And my heart is full.  Full of sadness for the loss of a dream; the hope of something new.  These heart-wrenching and extreme changes in our plans leave us feeling full and empty at the same time.  And that really is the beautifully tragic thing about being a human being.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Ridiculously Rich

Each time I pack clothes for a trip I feel ridiculously blessed.  (Not to mention how blessed we are to even be going on another trip.)  All three of our kids and my husband and I have more than enough outfits for every season.  I walk downstairs and look through bins of clothes that friends and family have given us and realize that I really don't need to go shopping for anything new except for maybe a pair of flip-flops or tennis shoes.  And as my arms ache from the heaviness of stuff, I remember these couple of paragraphs from the book, "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan.  (If you haven't read this book, get thee to a bookstore and purchase it or come over & borrow mine.)

"Remember the story where Jesus fed thousands of people with one boy's small lunch?  In that story, according to Matthew, Jesus gave the loaves to His disciples and then the disciples passed them out to the crowd.  Imagine if the disciples had simply held onto the food Jesus gave them, continually thanking Him for providing lunch for them.  That would've been stupid when there was enough food to feed the thousands who were gathered and hungry."

"But that us exactly what we do when we fail to give freely and joyfully.  We are loaded down with too many good things, more than we could ever need, while others are desperate for a small loaf.  The good things we cling to are more than money; we hoard our resources, our gifts, our time, our families, our friends.  As we begin to practice regular giving, we see how ludicrous it is to hold to the abundance God has given us and merely repeat the words thank you."

My arms are tired from holding all this stuff and my mouth is exhausted from saying thank-you repeatedly to God.  I want to give freely and joyfully to those who need my money, gifts, time, family and friends.  How 'bout you?

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Book Suggestions?

One week from tomorrow we are headed to FLA and I'm looking for your best beach book, biography, historical fiction or classic book suggestion.  The only two genres I don't like are mystery and anything by Karen Kingsbury. :)  I just read "The Art of Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein, "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett.  All excellent books.  So now that I gave you a few to check out, please give me some of your favorite titles.  Thanks!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Quotable

"It's great being a person" said Zach.

It's especially great being a person who knows you thought his mom.

From Deep to Fluffy

  • If malted milk balls were nutritious, I would be ridiculously healthy.  Easter candy is delicious.
  • If my life feels like a work out everyday, why must I work out?
  • I weighed myself before and after a spin class and in a time period of just 50 minutes I lost four pounds.  This tells you two things; I sweat profusely while exercising and I'm seriously dehydrated for the rest of that day.
  • I can no longer wear my favorite jeans because I went down a pants size (thanks spin) and so I bought my favorite jeans in a size down and they are waaaaaay too long.  Curious.  Tall goes with skinny like peanut butter goes with jelly I guess.
  • I just texted my husband that I love life so much because I love him so much.  He is the best!  Well, except for his little Super Mario Bros. on the Wii addiction but otherwise, he really is top notch.
  • Speaking of which, if I could give college girls some dating advice I would recommend that you find a man who loves Jesus, makes you laugh and enjoys cooking.  I don't know how women cook everyday.  You deserve a medal ladies, like everyday.
  • I am reading "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan and "Crave" by Chris Tomlinson for two Bible studies this spring and I'm feeling very uncomfortable in my comfortable Christian life.  I would love to know what God has in store for me and our family.
  • Speaking of that, I have a teaching degree, certificate and no job.  I would love to work part-time in an inner school district.  That would definitely challenge my comfort, I think.
  • And if Starburst jelly beans were nutritious, I would be really, really healthy.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Celebrating Our Story

     This is a story about hope.  About hoping for the unimaginable and expecting to receive it.  It is about the kind of hope that can only be found in God and in his Son, Jesus Christ.
 
    After experiencing another miscarriage past the first trimester, I was considering giving up my dream of having another biological child.  After all, I was getting older and the risk seemed to be too great.  We had two beautiful girls at home, two more blessings than we thought we deserved.  We spent the next few months praying and asking God to help us with this decision.  Our hearts still desired another child, a new pregnancy and we were filled with a God inspired kind of hope.

    In October we decided to go on a vacation with friends in Florida and it was there that we found out we were pregnant for the fifth time.  Two children here on earth, two little babies in heaven.  We looked at each other with joy, fear and excitement.  The pregnancy went very smoothly during the first trimester.  At seventeen weeks I thought I could start breathing a little easier.  After all, I had lost my other two babies at fifteen and sixteen weeks gestation and I was now passed this stage.  While my husband and kids were out shoveling the driveway, I discovered some spotting.  My heart sank and I ran out to tell my husband.  His mouth said, “oh, it’s nothing” but his eyes said, “oh no.”  I spent the next few minutes worrying and then calmed myself down and called the doctor.  I was put on bed rest, a unique state of lying around in fear for my baby’s life; a state that I would live in for the next two months.
   
    I couldn’t stay home and wait for something to happen.  I felt like I had ignored my body’s signals before with the miscarriages and I refused to do it again.  I called the doctor again and was kindly told to come on in.  I was having contractions every five minutes.  I said to myself, “wait, this can’t be happening again. ”  I drove myself to the hospital and checked myself in. 
   
    In the hospital for five days.  Home.  Two weeks later, back in the hospital for a week.  Before I was sent home this time, one of the nurses gave me these two instructions; don’t come back until the summer and make sure it’s with a tan.  One week later I was back in the hospital and was told that I wasn’t going home until the baby was born.  I was only 21 weeks along and could not imagine being there until the recommended 37 weeks.  But at the rate I was bleeding and contracting, I also knew that I would never make it to 37 weeks.

      We finally decided to find out the sex of this challenging baby.  “A boy?”  “A boy, yes a boy,” the doctor repeated.  We found ourselves excited while imagining this little guy and our hope was renewed.  After the doctor left the hospital room, we sat in silence, absorbing the unexpected news that we were having a boy.  After a few minutes, I looked over to find my husband with his head down, hands covering his face, crying like  . . .  well . . .   a baby.  He looked at me and said, “I know it doesn’t matter whether we have a boy or girl as long as the baby is healthy.  But a boy?  Wow!”  After having four pregnancies and four little girls we had just assumed that we would be having another little girl.  We had already decided on her name too, Piper Hope.  I just looked at him and laughed and shared in his joy.   
       
    To say that bed rest in the hospital was difficult would be an understatement.  Bed rest at home is difficult; bed rest in the hospital is impossible.  I couldn’t even think about my two little girls at home without crying and I had one picture of them propped up against my radio that many times had to go in the drawer when it hurt too much to look at them.  As a stay at home mom, I prided myself on being able to “do it all” and had a hard time letting go and letting others step in and care for my children.  I have never seen the minutes on a clock go slower than when I was on bed rest.  I have never wanted to sleep more and be physically unable to.  I have never loved my husband more or my daughters each time they came to visit the hospital with their sloppy pony tails and mismatched clothes.  And I have never felt the hand of God like I did while lying in a hospital bed and pleading with him for my baby’s life.  He sustained me, he comforted me, he encouraged me and he carried me.  The lyrics of this familiar hymn became my song; “I need Thee, O I need Thee, ev’ry hour I need Thee; O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.”  I can still hear the women of my childhood church singing this with their vibrato laced voices and it makes me smile to know that God uses “old” music to calm “young” souls. 

    My husband Jeff was amazing through it all.  Going to work each day, coming to visit me after work, picking up the kids, making dinner, getting them to bed and calling me after they were asleep were just a few of his “jobs” during this season of life. I know now (because he told me) that every day he walked into my hospital room he would say to himself, “here we go,” take a deep breath, paint a smile on his face and choose to be hopeful.  True love looks like this.

    True love also looks like the sister that comes to the hospital to play cards, or a sister that comes just to visit or paint your nails, or another sister that offers to take your kids in to live with her family so that they can have some sense of normalcy.  It also looks like the mom who just can’t stand to see you lying in a hospital bed, the sister-in-law that brings in a homemade meal, or the parents-in-law that take your children every weekend, all weekend long so their son can support his wife.   True love also is the dad that plays countless games of Yahtzee on his lunch break or skips a college faculty meeting because his daughter said she needed him to stay a little bit longer.  It also was seen by countless friends who seemed to know just when I needed a visit or when I wasn’t up for it.  For these examples of Christ’s love, I will be eternally grateful.

    True professional dedication was reflected in the nursing care I received and the encouragement my obstetrician gave me daily to hang in there.  I saw this man every day for six weeks and each time he walked into my hospital room I hoped that today was the day he would say I could go home.  Never mind that this was an unrealistic and naive thought, it was this hope that kept me going on a rough day.  He also told me that this would hopefully be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life and that I could, in fact, do it.
  
    At twenty-four weeks I could receive a steroid shot for the baby’s lungs and I don’t think I have ever stared down a bigger needle with more joy and expectation and with as little care as to where it was going to be administered.  One week later I received another because it was time to deliver at twenty-five weeks.  The doctor walked in wearing his hospital scrubs early on a Sunday morning and I knew that today was my son’s birthday.  I first felt scared, then relieved, and then guilty for feeling relieved.   I was wheeled into the surgery room and my husband had to wait outside while I was being prepped.  I still remember my doctor coming around the bed and holding my hand while I was being prepped for surgery.  He never stopped reassuring and encouraging me, just like he had done throughout the entire pregnancy.

     At 10:30 a.m. a red, wrinkly baby was born and let out a big cry.  Yes, he was ready to fight and even was breathing on his own for several minutes until the neonatologist thought he would wear himself out.  I got to give my little boy his first kiss as he was lifted up to me and then quickly wheeled down to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.  At 2 lbs. 4 oz. , it amazed me just how much he looked like a full-term baby until I later went to visit him that night and saw just how tiny and fragile his little body really was under the bright light of his incubator.  He was a fighter and fought for nine weeks in that NICU and had only one minor infection, no surgeries, no brain bleeds and no digestion problems.  He came home at a whopping five pounds and continued to amaze us with his ability to grow and eat while never even waking up!  On March 21 he will turn six and I am just as amazed by him today as the first day I met him.  He is running, dancing, talking, laughing, hearing and seeing perfectly.  You might want to know his name so if you see him you can say hello.  His name is Zachary which means, “God remembered.”  I told you this was a story about hope.                             
                             

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Pushing 40 & Ziplining

O.K. we're not nearly 40 (not for a few more years for me and not for five for my younger man) but still, we did feel like quite the adventurous couple going ziplining and rappelling in Mexico.  Add snorkeling to those and you start to feel like you're in your twenties again. :)

I have so enjoyed catching up on my favorite blogs since giving up facebook for lent.  Blog on people!

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Hamsters Like Pancakes



Yep folks; this is our hamster Skittle. I know it looks like we went to a photography studio and set him up against a black back drop and waited for the perfect nibble but really, he just was sitting on a leather chair in our kitchen. This little rodent has brought hours of fun to our kids and is really a nice pet except when he escapes his cage and goes MIA for a couple of days. Last week he decided that since we were now back from vacay, he could slip out of his cage and have a little fun. Two days later the girls found him crawling around in *GASP* their bedroom. Ick. We were living with the false hope that he could not climb up our basement stairs. As I clean droppings that fell behind my bathroom trash can, I am once again reminded that hamsters are much cuter to me when they're confined to their cage.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Forgiveness

One of my daughters struggles with forgiving her sister. It happened just tonight. As their play escalates from playful to mean, one of them inevitably gets either their feelings or body hurt. (Most of the time it's both.) A quick sorry is not enough. Me getting angry at her sister is not enough. She wants justice and she wants the punishment to be more severe than the crime. Her claim is that she always gets punished more severely and her "woest me" attitude can push me right over the edge of sane parenting and send me hurtling to the "exasperated, frustrated and I can't believe I just said that" kind of parenting.

My Sunday school lesson for last week was on how to give extreme forgiveness. And I got to admit that some of the examples made me wonder who would give out THAT KIND of forgiveness. Oh yeah; Jesus did. When I watch my daughter who struggles to forgive (and I hate to admit it but she gets it from me), I try to remind her of the times we have forgiven her for something she did wrong. And then I remind her that God forgives us for all the mistakes we make, big or little, so who are we not to forgive others or hold grudges?

As I was teaching this lesson it came time to give an example of when I, the teacher, struggled to forgive someone. It was in the lesson plan and I'd planned on skipping right over it using the excuse there wasn't enough time to include it. But the Holy Spirit led me to share the struggle I've had for the past six months with a dear friend. I get the joy of teaching one of my daughters every Sunday and as I scanned the room while teaching, I see her nodding as I said I was hurt by this friend and how it was so hard to forgive her. Wow. She nodded right along as I spoke and she knew exactly who I was talking about (without knowing a single detail of what the disagreement or hurt was about) and I was struck by how perceptive my child, really every child is about what's going on in their home.

This is a simple lesson, "Forgive as the Lord forgave you." Colossians 3:13 It's the simple lessons that I need to be reminded of again and again however.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Church

"Church isn’t where you meet. Church isn’t a building. Church is what you do. Church is who you are. Church is the human outworking of the person of Jesus Christ. Let’s not go to Church, let’s be the Church.”


Bridget Willard

Being the church to me is being in relationships with other people. Connecting with them and letting them know that I care about them, their spiritual life, and their family. Without a relationship, you are just someone posting Bible verses on a stranger's blog.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

Disaster Date #2

I know, I know. You can't believe I've ever had a bad date. Me either. I blame the boys. (It's easier than taking any responsibility.)

Date: Winter, 1991
Place: Some dance @ GRCHS
Date's Name: Let's call this one George


I am now a senior and still haven't learned my lesson NOT to date anyone outside of my class. I am dating a sophomore. (He was super cute as I remember. And mature for his age. Kinda sorta.) So there is some winter dance in the gym and my date decides to plan out where we will be eating dinner before we head over to the dance. (1st mistake.) Did I mention I was a senior? And all of my friends were going downtown to swanky restaurants and that part of the fun is telling everyone where you went to eat?

We went to Fuddruckers. (2nd mistake.) I kid you not. George told me he loved their hamburgers. I offered to help pay if that would help change the dinner destination. We waited in line for our food, picked it up at the counter, and sat down. Across the restaurant I saw my religion teacher. Dear Lord, shoot me now.

George was dressed quite nicely. He had on a wool sweater and khaki pants. About half way through the dance his neck looked all red and prickly and I asked him why he didn't where an undershirt. (3rd mistake.) Hello George, it's wool!

All in all, it was fun dance. I lied and told my friends we went to Cheddar's and I think George's skin recovered fairly quickly. Our break up was imminent.