Remember the sleepover from last week? It turned out to be a bust. My daughter got homesick and insisted on coming home at around 10:30. My daughter and her friend were both in tears, and the night ended with a couple of broken hearts, I think. I guess the good news is that they'd had a lot of fun earlier in the evening, when they saw the new Ice Age movie and ate some junk food.
Honestly, I am not sure why my daughter got homesick. She has always been pretty independent. In fact, she got lost in a crowd at the farmers' market yesterday morning and I was the only one who was upset. When I finally found her, placidly wandering through piles of produce, I hauled her behind a cheese truck to yell at her (I mean, I had been legitimately frightened when I could not find her). She looked around at all the people walking by and whispered, "MOMMY!" I was embarrassing her, apparently. "I DON'T CARE IF I AM EMBARRASSING YOU! YOU HAVE TO STAY BY ME!" So yeah, I briefly turned into that mom, the one who screams at her kid in public.
Now I'm not sure how to know when she will be ready to sleep over at a friend's house. How does one know? I guess in the mean time, I will just invite her friends over for sleepovers periodically. This plan does foil the whole "kid at sleepover = date night that doesn't involve paying a baby sitter" scenario, but I'm sure we'll live.
In other news, my kitty is still kicking. I fear I will have to make a decision soon. I am continuing to give her the vitamins that the vet gave me. I've perfected the art of getting the brown liquid into her without having to wear the liquid on my shirt for the rest of the day. She is eating very little. I found out that she is willing to eat kitty treats - and more specifically, Whiskas Temptations ("crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside!"). Part of me thinks, "Well, I guess I'll just feed her treats then." But part of me knows this can't go on forever. She is vomiting quite a bit and seems pretty lethargic.
Finally, I'm sure you are dying to know how my massive tomato is doing. It is now about the size my daughter's head was when she was born. I continue to fondle it a couple times a day, but it has not started to ripen.
As a bonus update . . . you remember the Pride festival I attended last weekend? Well, I totally won a raffle package! I got the call a couple days ago. Ever since I won Michael Moore's Twitter contest (which earned a $10,000 donation for the Boxer Rescue organization for which I volunteer), I am somehow convinced that I am extraordinarily lucky. I buy tickets for every raffle that comes my way. Anywho, I won a package that includes: a $50 gift card for an Italian restaurant (which is actually pretty pricey, so I need a $50 head start to go there regardless), a $50 gift card for a performing arts center (I think I'm going to take the kid to the Nutcracker Ballet in December), and $30 towards services at a local hair salon. I was not familiar with the salon so I looked it up online. All but one of the employees are African-American. They specialize in cornrows and other ethnic hairstyles. Now, I have never been lucky in the hair department. I have about eight strands of hair in total. My hair is unmistakably . . . white girl hair. So, I am not sure what they would do with me. However, you know I cannot let $30 go unspent, so I might just head over there sometime. I hope cornrows are okay at work.