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Chinoiserie Chic • Mid Century Modern • Palm Beach Regency Vintage Sales & Rentals

THE LAUNDRY LIST

Say Four Hail Marys and a No You Di-ent!

LeAnn Stephenson



I will start by telling you that my entire existence can be summed up by one experience. And that is: You know how you walk into a room and as soon as you enter said room you can't remember why you're there? . . . . . THIS is everyday of my life. Well actually my life is more like a cocktail of that feeling and the cold sweat and the full-body paralysis you experience when you drive past a police officer going 50 mph when the speed limit is 35 mph. Basically, I wake every morning feeling like I've shown up without my homework, . . . . late, . . . . . . naked, . . . . most likely having burst into flames on my way there.

You know those driven, ultra-organized, over-achiever-type creatures who can do that multi-task thing? . . . . I'm the opposite, other kind of creature. The thing that blows my mind (and there are quite a few, which explains how little of it I have left) is how I'm the hogger of all the ADD and loser-moments in my little family. I will get my "to do list" finished . . . . eventually, but there might be a few mishaps along the way. Which brings me to a couple of funny stories that I wanted to share.

The first is a funny thing that happened on the way to an Etsy post. Last Saturday I received an email from an Etsy friend. She graciously complimented the piece I had listed and then mentioned a typo that existed that gave her a laugh, but was sure it was not what I had intended.

At the bottom of my furniture posts I put a little shpiel mentioning that due to the furniture's size, the piece requires a quote for shipping and instructions to e-mail or call me prior to purchasing. Well, where it would normally read "because of it's size" I had mistyped "because of tits size" . . . . . Gives a hole new meaning to "flat-rate," huh?!

My second flail occurred as the Hubbs, the kids, and I were shopping around in a local Catholic thrift store that we frequent. The store is run by the nuns - with the hats . . . . just like in The Sound of Music and everything! So, I find some goodies and take them up to the cash register and visit with the lovely sister about my purchases, when for some reason, feel the need to tell her that my husband is Catholic ( which is true). I continue by saying, "So, I guess that makes me a little Catholic by association (which I'm pretty sure is totally not true.) I do this . . . . I babel on and on in front of nuns, priests, ministers, pretty much all clergy types make me rattle on endlessly. Finally she hands me my receipt and says, "Have a blessed day," to which I would normally respond, "You as well" or "You also."  Only this time I had a "typo" of the mouth.  Instead of saying, "You as well or you also," I rearranged some letters, or my teeth got in the way of my tongue or something and I say, "You asshole" . . . . to a nun . . . in a Catholic thrift store . . . . . while my husband, children, and the parish priest stand staring at me with the most interesting looks on their faces. One enormously pregnant pause later, the nun looks at me, then to the priest and my family, and then back to me and says, " Oh no you di-ent!"

It's official, I'm going to hell . . .

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