I was just explaining that I think some blogs write themselves, what with all the zany adventures and cleverly misunderstood children's wordplay, and the potty training, and my life, lately, has just not felt "blogworthy." Because most people don't want to hear about how I've changed my mind AGAIN on whether or not to start a Master's degree, and how Harrison's arm didn't stink when he got the cast off (so disappointing, because I had that blog entry all but published).
But THEN, last night we went and celebrated my nephew's 3rd birthday. And like most 3rd birthdays, it ended with two men dressed in wife-beater tanks with ridiculous dyed-black facial hair and steps shaved into the sides of their heads.
For those who can't see the picture, that Eric with a handlebar mustache. A real one. I don't have Eric's brother's permission (yet?) to post his picture on my blog, but I assure you, his Fu Manchu was brilliant. I said it last night, and I'll say it again, the man looked like a sad panda.
Thanks to Eric's sisters, who decided this kind of entertainment was completely worth fifty bucks a piece. They just have to go to work like this one day this week, and we can afford Christmas!! And all it took was for me to never be able to look at my husband the same way ever again.
We must all bow down to Eric's ugly mustache. My blog has just been resuscitated.