commence eye clawing.

today? throwaway. yesterday? need to forget. this whole week? we never have to revisit.

one good thing to say - the kitchen looks FANTASTIC so far. (at least until you walk into it and turn to face the other wall, which they cannot get any of the contact paper backing that has been GLUED to the wall using some adhesive not of this earth...they have to come back with some sort of laser or magician's wand or something to take care of that.) one other good thing to say: I bought bella a j-lo esque velour jogging suit and it looks fabulous on her.

that concludes the good things.

yesterday was the day that would never die. after a gruelling day of crap, I forgot that I was supposed to get home on time because sean had a hair appt with my hairdresser. I love you sean, but you were entering michael bolton status with what was going on on top of your head. so I tried to double park outside our house and let trent, bella, and sean jump in. that didn't work. honking, beeping....anyways, so we get there (on time, amazingly) and sean gets a great hair cut, I get to feed bella in the bathroom, and we decide (loosely using the word) to get dinner at PJ O'Wheelihans or something equally irish sounding. which was totally not my idea - going to an irish pub? for dinner? with a baby? ON SAINT PATRICK'S DAY?

so we begin the journey to the irish place when brett calls - back up to 2 days ago. brett had called and asked if I could go to the baseball field to pick up the team equipment. it had to be done either that day or the next (yesterday.) I was like, I'll do it tomorrow, and brett was all "are you sure you'll remember" and I got totally high and mighty and said "*I* am not the one who forgets things...you do."

so brett calls, "did you get the equipment okay?" GREAT. we have 25 minutes to get there before the deadline, and I guess after that the team has to use broomhandles and old rugs. and meanwhile me with the "I don't forget things" routine. so we decide we are going to get the baseball stuff and then go to a more local irish place (Finn McCools - I swear, all of these places should be called "Irish McDrinkey's") for dinner. it's nearly 8pm now.

so we get the equipment (with 2 mins to spare - think of that when you're swinging that bat, trent) and we go to Finn's. even before we get there, we see the cars lined up on the side of the road. which really drove my point to sean home about not going to an irish place for dinner on st. patrick's day. but then, why else would you go? but anyway. so I make an executive decision (which is easy to do when you're driving) and said there is no way on god's irish green earth we are going there. and we turned the car around and went to mcdonalds to get burgers and shamrock shakes.

afterwards, I said to sean, "well, you wanted to go to an irish restaurant, and we did."

ba dum bum.