Two Left Feet

When I was on vacation in January, I was on a mission to find some black boots.

I found these in Kansas and just had to have them.

Obnoxious? Yes.

But I mean, who wouldn't want them?

My husband tried to talk some sense into me. For one, I never tuck my jeans in my boots (as a matter of fact I make fun of people who do --  because 90% of the time it's totally unnecessary and they are just d-bags trying too hard to look the part) so he convinced me not to buy them just because I liked the Kansas State Powercat on them.

Oh yeah, and something about white not being practical.

La, la, la, I can't hear you.

 He said if I wanted black boots, I would find oodles of them at the stock show in Denver the following week. Except I highly doubt he said oodles.

So I didn't buy them.

And I found oodles of not cool black boots at the stock show and went home empty handed.
 

Everyone I know has seen the above picture on my phone and they are sooooo over hearing about these boots.

So I finally just ordered them the other day.

It was like Christmas when the box came.

And then I pulled out two left boots.

Of course this would happen.

Except I was only blessed with one left foot. And incidentally a right foot as well.

I almost cried.

Okay, not really. That would make me a total pansy.

I called the store in Kansas I ordered them from and explained my dilemma. They told me to ship them back and they would swap out a left for a right.

When I sent them back last week, I accompanied them with this letter:

Dear Vanderbilt's Employee -

Wrong boots ... yada, yada, blah, blah, blah...

My husband said I should have you reimburse me for shipping, but I'm not a hardass like that. But I sure wouldn't complain if you just happened to include a cute K-State t-shirt (women's size small/medium) in the box.

He is a WVU grad and we live in West Virginia. I am a die-hard KSU fan from Lindsborg. I need to show these jokers what's up when the Mountaineers join the Big XII next year. Thanks, you're awesome.

-Andrea

I'll let you know in the very near future if I am the proud new owner of a purple t-shirt.

As a matter of fact, Kansas friends: you should stop by Vanderbilt's and tell them to go ahead and throw in some cute jeans and a couple of belts as repayment for my tramatic distress.

Cool, thanks.

Damma Taffy

My mother and grandmother came to visit a few weeks ago.

Not only did my mom clean out my hoarder-esque laundry room. But she did her usual day and a half of cooking where she makes all of our favorite meals, then freezes them in meal-sized portions.

All I have to do is pop them in the microwave.

That woman totally caters to my every whim when she's here.

And I definitely don't deserve it.

Mom left dad at home this trip and brought along good ol' Damma Taffy.

Who catered to Banjo's every whim.

Spoiled rotten.

My grandmother had never be to Washington, D.C. so we brought her into the city for a tour.

It just happened to be during the small 4-day window when the Cherry Blossoms were really at their peak.

D.C. was great but it wasn't the highlight of the week.

No, the highlight, believe it or not, was a trip to Wal-Mart....

...where we loaded Damma Taffy into a broken down wobbly store scooter and let her terrorize the candy and yarn aisles (apparently her two favorites).

She doesn't quite have the whole "turn on a dime" thing down yet.

You can hear here telling the man in the background "Lookout, woman driver!"

Love her. She is the definition of aging with a sense of humor.

The Easter Bunny is Here

If you bring a tiny orphaned baby bunny rabbit by the farm, I will take a thousand pictures.

Leave me unattended with the tiny orphaned baby bunny and I will put on an Easter photo shoot.

Cause I'm weird like that.

Good thing little Thumper here already has a good home to go to.

Otherwise, I would add rabbit to my brood of 4-legged children.