Momma Chameleon

Realized I had ten or twelve things to accomplish around the house before tomorrow's TDY, so I actually wrote them down and drew cute little boxes next to them so Ainsley could monitor my progress. Chief among these tasks was "pack" which takes the most time; as a military member whose clothes are laid out in official regulations dating back to the Eisenhower administration, picking a tie to go with what suit is not my strength. Nor, it turns out, is counting the correct number of underwear days.

Dogs' nails trimmed, maps printed out, garden gate fixed, and children bathed, Dad was emboldened enough to babysit both kids (!) so we could go to a friend's 80s party. We had him come over just as Erin was being javamama-juiced to sleep, in the hopes that she would give her grandfather at least 2 or 3 hours before needing to talk about something (as it turns out, she lasted more than four, well after we got home). The party was fun, and considering that my Beau George costume was fashioned together at the last minute, it garnered an awful lot of complimentary, if giggle-laden, remarks. Ainsley, hot to trot in her Xanadu leg warmers, lacy tights, and sideways ponytail, was just glad to have a drink and relax and spend a night with her transvestigal husband in peace.

Don we now our gay apparel.