So when M spied a dresser at a neighbor’s garage sale on Saturday morning, she swooped me up and made D come along, too. I guess she needed his expert drawer opinion.
As if garage-sale shopping isn’t white trash enough, Mommy made us look even more ghetto by leaving me in my Maggie Simpson nightgown. Plus, Daddy walked over there barefoot. He didn’t even bother with his flip flops. He doesn’t like wearing them because the part that goes over his toe pulls the black hairs on his Fred Flintsone toes.
When we got there, we found that the dresser was a dud. It was a little too ornate for my taste. So, I’m stuck with the crappy one.
On Sunday, I went to church with M & D. M wants me to be baptized, so she’s been looking for a good church in the area. M&D had two and a half years to find a place of worship in FloMo before I was born. Why the heck are they just now starting to look? Sometimes I don’t get those two.
After church, I cried all day. I’m not saying the two events are connected, I’m just sayin’.
On Sunday night, we went to Benihana to celebrate Granny T/Abuelita/Noni’s (she still hasn’t decided what I should call her. Anything with “Granny” in it makes her sound old, she says) birthday par-tay. (I have to say par-tay b/c I’m cool like that.) See how amused I was at Benihana. I can’t help it if I had to cry. They were passing me around like hookah pipe, and I didn’t like it one bit. 
