...is a McDonald's playplace.
Cannot. Stand. It.
The smell of stale french fries and dirty feet. The sound and the screeching and shrieking and yelling. The dirty, germy play equipment.
And yet...it's where I sit right this minute.
I took little sis here tonight to get her out of mom's hair...she's been a little pill all day and mom needed a break. So I'm guzzling coffee trying to not pull my hair out as these little kids chase each other and scream and holler like it's some sort of game.
Maybe it's a sigh I'm not ready to be a parent quite yet, but I can think of other places I enjoy more. A bookstore. My house. The kitchen table at my mom's sewing something.
I know I sound really selfish, but really. Anyone else despise Mickey D's playland?
The countdown continues for B's departure. He's been having some knee trouble from all the running he's been doing, so he's kind of worried it will be an issue at boot camp. We have to get a power of attorney filled out so I can be in charge of all the bank stuff while he's gone. We already have a joint account so I don't know why this is necessary. Good ole' paperwork. :)
Ever just wish someone would walk up to you and hand you a thousand dollars? I do. I want that right now. I want a bunch of money just for myself. I want a savings account. Mine got depleted when I got married and I'm just dying to start another one. Maybe one of these kind folks here in this merry playland will give it to me.