day eight.

So I'll admit it, I made no decent attempt to try something new today. I apologize, but not profusely. I woke up, ate some cereal, lounged, showered, babysat, ran a few errands, and got a call from who else but Melissa, our little celebrity! Before I tell you why she called, you have to know something really important. I am in love with Chipotle. It's a restaurant a lot like Subway, just with burritos and tacos. I've been there every weekend for the past five weeks, and I have no intention of stopping soon. So, she called, telling me that her and her mom were going to Chipotle for lunch, and asked if I wanted to go along. I accepted with a thousand yeses and before I knew it, I was munching on a burrito the size of a small baby.
We then got in the car, boiling on the inside from our Mexican, and the outside from the easily 90 degree weather, and traveled to Kohl's. Melissa got some pajama shorts for her trip to Europe, and I tried on some ridiculous outfits. There were some pants that had a newspaper print complete with suspenders. I paired them with a discotheque-ish shirt, one shouldered, and crazily printed. I looked hot. Then, I tried on this corset/striped/buttoned mess of a shirt with some Native American (is that politically correct?) booty shorts. They had patches and feathers. It was a look.
Then we came home. We swam. It rained. We ran inside. My dad walked on the roof. Unrelatedly, which is not a word, he peeled his toenail back. He complains constantly and is googling a podiatrist. I ate a SpongeBob Push-Up Pop. It was good.