Rachel Callahan

Kiosk Warfare: A Guide for Survival.

October 27, 2010July 21, 2020 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, Actually Possibly Informational, Anal Retentivity to a Fault, Pop Post, Popular Posts, Shopping: A Girl's Best Friend, This is TONGUE IN CHEEK People - Don't take me Seriously., Utter Silliness

The mall is a glorious place for Moms of young children. Akin to an indoor playground for both Mother AND Child, it is full of glee-filled places such as Toy Stores, hot dog trucks, carousels, and, of course, shopping.

But it doesn’t come without it’s risks – without the dangers of attack.

The Kiosk Predators.

I often wonder if they hate their job as much as I hate their job.

Although some kiosks sell desirable things, the ones with the predators are the ones that sell things that no one wants for more money than anyone would ever pay, and their only hope is to convince you to let them try their undesirable product on you which will STILL not make you want it, all of which creates an attitude of desperation, which, if handled wrong, can turn into hostility and even, legend has it, violence.

So, you can either spend your mall visits having the following continuous dialogue… “No, I would not like my hair straightened. No I would not like a freaky hairpiece. No, my three year old doesn’t need a hairpiece either. No, I would not like a 15 minute massage while my kid runs amuck throughout the mall. No, I don’t smoke, nor do I know anyone who needs your electric cigarettes. And, by the way, you look really cheesy smoking them.”

Or, you can implement a few simple strategies to help you avoid, overcome, and come out victorious against the Great Kiosk Predators.

And, since everyone may not spend as much time at the mall as I do, I decided to write a guide to help you survive any holiday mall trips you may find yourself embarking upon.

1. You must know your enemies and their strategies.

a. The Eastern European guy at The Nutty Bavarian booth will try to draw you in with his Mediterranean dark, mysterious, sultry eyes. Do not make eye contact lest you become unable to refuse his nut samples.

b. The Barbie-esque hair straightener girls are vicious. Don’t turn your back on them lest you find yourself jabbed in the back with a 200 degree hair straightener. Also, if not told no firmly enough (all while not turning your back on them), they will try a second attempt of wanting to straighten your child’s hair. Apparently, they lack the common sense that 200 degrees + 3 year olds does not end in a happy equation.

c. The Israeli guy at the weird sea salt lotion booth will implore you with a look of desperation, as if he is kept in a cage underneath the kiosk at night. He will also not give up. You must be firm and walk fast. Very fast. Oh – and the Israeli trinkets he sells at Christmastime? Check the little gold sticker. They’re usually made in Lebanon. Ironic, no?

d. The Chinese hairpiece lady may try to throw a hairpiece into your head before you even see her. This may feel like you just got attacked by a small, furry woodland creature. Don’t panic – she’ll use your moment of confusion against you.

2. Be aware of High Risk Days. Similar to the smog alert that comes on the news each morning, prepare yourself accordingly.

If it is a less crowded day at the mall, the risk of attack is higher because the prey is less available.
If it is holiday season, the number of Kiosk Predators may be higher, raising the risk of attack.
If you are alone, your risk is MUCH greater. Travel in packs to help ensure safety, and to help you escape (without buying a small woodland creature for your hair) if you get ensnared.

3. Know the Kiosk Danger Zones and plan your route accordingly. For instance, I have made the following sample diagram and legend of my mall, the Riverchase Galleria, to aid in the planning process:

As you can see, most areas of certain attack can be avoided by strategically planning your route between the two floors. But, of course, you may NEED to go through the high risk areas of the mall, so when you enter a yellow zone, you need to go ahead and start planning your Strategy of Avoidance…

4. Strategies of Avoidance:

Hang back away from the red zone until you see someone of a similar attackable demographic walking by. Then run past as quickly as you can while they are devoured by the flesh-eating-Kioskers.
Walk as closely to the “real” stores as possible, looking intently in each and every window. This is a weak strategy, however, because Kiosk Predators are not afraid to reach out and grab you. Also, you may walk into someone else due to your intent focus on the stores.
Pinch your child to make them scream right as you’re walking into a red zone. They should decide that you’re not worth the kill, but even if they don’t, you can pretend you can’t hear them over the wails of distress.
Have a failproof excuse for each booth. To the Nutty Bavarian, say as you walk by quickly, “I’m allergic to nuts.” To the hair straightener girls, “I prefer the frizzy look.” To the hairpiece lady, “I’m already wearing a hairpiece. Can’t you tell this isn’t real??”

The bottom line is that preparation is key. And it may be the only way that you don’t find yourself wondering how and when you bought a hairpiece for your baby.

Lessons Learned from Pumpkin Carving.

October 26, 2010 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Kids: The Experience.

~ Glitter Pumpkins, although quite satiating for a woman’s desire for pumpkin decor, will not qualify as true pumpkin decorating to the man of the household.

~ Especially when that man of the household is 34 years old and has never carved a pumpkin in his life, and is itching to give it a try, now that he has a three-year-old excuse to do so. (I was previously unaware that you could make it to 34 without carving a pumpkin.)

~ There’s not nearly as much goop in a pumpkin as I remembered from my childhood.

~ But the goop that IS in a pumpkin is QUITE unwilling to let loose it’s spiderweb-like hold onto the sides of the pumpkin, unless you give up on the spoon and actually dig it out with your fingers.

~ Said goop doesn’t like to come off of hands. An alternating pattern of wet wipes and paper towels, although creating a voluminous pile of orangey paper products, will, eventually, convince goop to turn loose.

~ Pumpkin guts are NOTHING like Libby’s Mashed Pumpkin.

~ Desiring to use pumpkin guts in a recipe that calls for Libby’s Mashed Pumpkin, although idealistic, fall-like, thrifty, and seemingly quite doable, is not at all doable, as a) the pumpkin goop is minimal, and b) neither the goop OR the meaty sides of the pumpkin have anything in common with Libby’s Mashed Pumpkin, so you will have no idea how to turn any product from a real pumpkin into Libby’s Mashed Pumpkin.

~ Store clerks will not laugh at you when you return bashfully to the store to buy Libby’s Mashed Pumpkin.

~ But you might feel like a wasteful failure of a domesticated woman.

~ Kids that are absolutely obsessed with pumpkins,

but completely afraid of knives, will agree to try exactly one downward stroke of knife into pumpkin,
at which point they will be so freaked out when their hand hits the pumpkin because they’ll think that the knife hit their hand and they’ve mortally wounded themselves and will soon be “blooding” all over the place that they will insist on being on scooping goop duty only for the duration of the pumpkin carving activity.

~ But that’s okay, because their Pumpkin-Carving-Newbie Daddy will be happy to finish.

~ Pumpkin carving templates change everything. It turns a childhood-failure-of-a-pumpkin-carver like myself into a very shocked and surprised near-pro.

~ Templates are also great for entertaining scared-of-knives kid. Because same said kid is, ironically, not at all afraid of scissors, and will be glad to trash-into-a-million-piececs all unused templates.

~ The three-year-old ego is an amazingly fantastic thing. Even though said kid only made one downward slice with the knife, they will be as proud of their pumpkins as if they had carved them completely by hand, using only their fingernails and teeth, and with no magical template at all.

~ You will find orange pumpkin splatters on all three of your foreheads, arms, eyelashes, and hair for days to come. Because that stuff – it doesn’t like to turn loose.

Votin’ In The South

October 24, 2010 Rachel Callahan Quirky quirky quirkiness, Weird Strange and True

Among my attempts at avoiding mud-slinging commercials, pre-recorded phone calls, and unfortunately-not-pre-recorded-so-I-can’t-hang-up-on-them-because-I’m-too-dang-polite political surveyors, there is, thank goodness, some entertainment that comes out of elections – at least if you live in Alabama.

The names.

They’re awesome – especially the nicknames that people choose to associate with themselves.

Oddly enough, according to our voting regulations, you can put whatever nickname you want in quotation marks (and you know how I feel about things in quotation marks) in between your first and last name, but you can’t have a title at the beginning of your name, a rule that drove Dr. Robert Bentley, running for Governor, to actually legally change his first name to “Dr.” – so as to make sure to get his full educational credit.

Which, really, was a MUCH better choice than going with the acceptable but really-questionable-sounding Robert “Doctor” Bentley.

(Really!! I’m a “real” doctor!!!)

But. Besides D-R-dot (can I call him that now since it’s his legal name?), let’s talk about the quotey nicknames. They go a long way to help out every stereotype ever associated with our great state… including some of my favorites from the ballots this year…

Huey “Hoss” Mack
Jesse “J-MAC” McDaniel
Kate “Flyfish” Clark (although she sounds like she would fit in better in Alaska with Sarah Palin. If she wants to run down here, she needs to go by Kate “Pro Bass Fisher” Clark.)
J.T. “Jabo” Waggoner
Randall “Rh” Houston (How would you like us to pronounce that, Rh?? Halfway between a dog bark and a dog growl?)

Besides these guys, there were somehow TWO primary elections in Alabama that had two people with the same names running against each other. So, of course, one of them chose to differentiate with a cheesey quotey nickname…

Bettye Greene ran against Betty Green, and apparently Bettye didn’t seem to think that her parent’s extraneous use of e’s made her stand out enough, so she chose to be listed as “Bettye K. “Mama” Greene.

Unfortunately, Betty without all the e’s beat her out.

But in the Thomas Jackson v. Thomas Jackson race, the one that chose to go with Thomas “Action” Jackson was came out on top.

So people apparently vote for action, but not for their Mamas.

Without even needing nicknames, there are, of course, there are plenty of candidates that sound like they could make up a whole cast of a remake of The Beverly Hillbillies: Emma Jean, Bobby Lou Leigh, Benny Jo, Bettye Fine, Butch, and Champ.

Somehow, though, in a miraculous turn of fate, not a single Bubba.

But my awards for the top four most awesomely memorable names on the ballots this year are all, apparently, their real names.

So really, they can’t be blamed – their parents can. Or maybe their parents should be commended for their foresight – because they certainly have the advantage of name recognition.

The awards go to:

4. Luther Strange

3. Sandra Schimmelpfennig

2. Twinkle Cavanaugh

And, finally, everyone’s favorite candidate, the ever-grave-and-quite-temperate looking

1. Young Boozer.

And yes, just like he says in his commercial, that IS his real name. And he IS running for Treasurer. And we SHOULD trust him with our money, even if he IS a Young Boozer.

Are your state’s ballots this entertaining, too?

Being a (Pregnant) Girl is So Subjective: A Journal.

October 22, 2010 Rachel Callahan It's Tough Being a Girl, Pregnancy: The Psychoses.

This post is dedicated to everyone who’s been complaining that I haven’t posted any pregnancy shots. (Besides the belly shots on B-Sides, anyway.) After this post, you may officially quit your whining.

Saturday: I realize that my legs don’t fit so well into my jeans anymore. Crushing reality. Hate all my alternatives. Start feeling like the pregnant Kate Gosselin.

Except without the happy smile.

Sunday: Chris tells me that the shirt I’m wearing makes me look much less pregnant and really cute. Look in the mirror. He has a point – it DOES minimize the belly. Thank goodness for the power of suggestion.

Start feeling like the pregnant Heidi Klum.

Well, okay, maybe not. No REAL human looks THAT good pregnant.

But wear said minimizing shirt for the next two days.

Then wear similar shirt for the next two days.

Then do the laundry so that I can rinse and repeat.

Wednesday : Go to the doctor, step on the scale. Gasp and then die from shock from the obviously-must-be-please-tell-me-it-is-malfunctioning-no-human-gains-that-much-weight-in-three-weeks scale.

THEN Noah gets measured, and he measures one week behind schedule, meaning that all of that ghastly amount of weight went straight into my hips. And face.

Immediately feel like the Octamom.

Except with bigger jowls.

Need to find some way to comfort myself. That doesn’t involve caloric intake.

Thursday: Found a winter non-maternity shirt in the back of my closet (obviously a very long, flowy one) that looked halfway decent on. Good thing, too, since I have few winter maternity shirts and I’m not about to buy a whole new wardrobe for the remaining 8.5 weeks of percolating.

Made me feel, just, kinda, normally, like myself pregnant.

…Except that the fading effect on that shirt looks exactly like what’s underneath it: stretch marks.

My emotions will be so happy when I’m no longer a baby-growing Petri Dish.

Modern Day Vocabularic Brainwashing.

October 21, 2010July 7, 2014 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, Actually Possibly Informational, Kids: The Experience., This is TONGUE IN CHEEK People - Don't take me Seriously., Utter Silliness

For those of you who do not currently have a small child, you may be completely and blissfully unaware of what I’m about to tell you.

But you deserve to know.

A disturbing replacement has happened in vocabulary as we know it. A brainwashing, actually, has taken place.

The term “Indian-Style”, in regards to the seated, cross-legged position, can no longer be found in the English language.

I know. Shocking.

It has been replaced with a much sillier, much less logical, much more obnoxious phrase.

Criss-Cross Applesauce.

That’s right. APPLESAUCE.

Say it out loud. Isn’t it annoying? Isn’t it urbane?? What the heck does APPLESAUCE have to do with a seated position?!

I researched it, and found two things:

1. The origin of criss-cross applesauce: it comes from a nightmare-inducing children’s poem:

Criss Cross Apple Sauce
Spiders crawling up your back
Spiders here, Spiders there
Spiders even in your hair
Cool breeze, tight squeeze
Now you’ve got the shiveries

…because Ali needed more things to have nightmares about.

And, I also discovered…

2. The demise of Indian-Style: it was what I expected: it is no longer politically correct.

Just like all of the “insensitive” baseball teams with names that seem to be celebrating, certainly not putting down, Native Americans, we must now forget that Indians taught us how to sit in that comfortable position at the first Thanksgiving meal (okay, maybe not), and instead, refer to it by a completely unrelated apple byproduct.

I personally am 1/16th Indian, and although I understand that doesn’t give me a full opinion on the matter, surely I get at least 1/16th of an opinion, and, with my allotted fraction, I would like to officially declare that I am not in the least offended by the term “Indian-Style”.

Surely there are 15 more of you out there with the same heritage as I that could join me to make up a full opinion?

But, just in case I’m the only one that doesn’t understand the insensitivity of the phrase, I’ll fall into cultural line, try not to think about spiders crawling in my hair, and say “Criss-Cross Applesauce”. At least when around impressionable (and brainwashed) young children.

And, I guess I should go ahead and complete Ali’s brainwashing to remove any other potentially offensive terms from her vocabulary…

I think I’ll teach her that Oriental Rugs are actually called Furry-Purry Peanut-Butters.

French Fries – well, they’ll be Crispy-Lispy Tuber Goobers.

And Hamburgers – I definitely don’t want to offend the people of Hamburg, so let’s call those Grisly-Greasy Cow Carcasses.

You know, just to add one more thing to her growing list of nightmare topics.

A Lesson in Three-Year-Old Theology.

October 20, 2010 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Kids: The Experience., Parent of the Year, Thoughts about Faith

Chris and I try to be strategic and consistent with Ali when teaching her about God’s Word. Wherever we can add it to her life, we try to do so. As a part of these efforts, I have several Classic-Kid Bible Song CDs in the car that she listens to and sings along with.

I THOUGHT this would help reinforce the stories that she was already learning, especially after reading this rousing review of my latest CD purchase…

“Bible stories will soon be hidden in your child’s heart and bursting out in song. Bible truths and Life Action Applications will help your child take these Biblical teachings to heart.”

Perfect!!!

Usually when in the car, she quietly listens, or if she’s in a really happy mood, sings along to her music.

But yesterday, she decided that I needed a deeper understanding as to the meaning behind the music.

And so, in her serious and utterly knowledgeable tone of voice, she took the time to inform me of the meaning of each song…

….When the song Climb, Climb Up Sunshine Mountain came on (which, admittedly, is a bit analogically heavy for a three-year-old), she began her education.

“This song is about going to Yogurt Mountain!”

…And then a song about encouraging and building others up came on…

“This song is about playing and building with blocks ALL DAY LONG!!!”

….Next was the classic, Ask, Seek, and Knock…

“This song is about Goldilocks. She didn’t knock OR ask first.”

…When the Saints Go Marching In must have been a bit more puzzling to her…

“This is a Pee song!!!”

“A Pee song?? What in the world is a Pee Song??”

“A Pee Song is…I really don’t know what a Pee song is.”

…And finally, a song about Thanking Jesus came on.

“This song is all about Baking Jesus!!!”

“Um, no baby, it’s actually about THANKING Jesus.”

“Oh…so it’s not about Baking Jesus??”

“No, it’s definitely not about Baking Jesus.”

At least she’s a deeply thoughtful child.

…But I think I get a C- on my theology teaching skills.

An Ode to Waistbands.

October 18, 2010 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, Denim Drama, It's Tough Being a Girl, Pregnancy: The Psychoses., Utter Silliness

Dear Regular, Wonderful, Adored-With-All-My-Being Jeans,

You have served me well – much longer than I thought you would possibly be able to.

Somehow, with your certainly-miraculous stretchiness and the help of many tortured waistline-expanding rubber bands (most who lost their lives in the line of duty), I have been able to enjoy your comfort up to this 30 week point in my pregnancy.

In fact, you’ve been kinda like my security blanket. My one spot of normalness amidst the complete hijacking of my body.

However, I think our blissful time together may have come to an end.

And I promise – it’s not you – it’s most definitely me.

Or, more accurately, my hips.

It seems that this week’s two pound gain went completely and totally into my hips (I suppose my “Birthing Hips” arrived, although they were QUITE sufficient for that before), and even though you, in your surpassing mercy and compassion, are still willing to be stretched over their growing mass (with the help of a shoehorn, a sturdy pair of pliers, and possibly a crane), I am just too afraid that I might eventually cause you to finally let go and completely explode into a pile of threads (something I know you’ve been considering), and therefore not have you around to comfort me after the emotional nuclear bomb that is giving birth.

And so, if I can manage to wean myself from your cozy home (I might need that crane to do so), it’s time to let you vacation from the strains and stretches of being distended over my increasingly unwieldy hips.

And, as much as it makes me cringe, your replacement will have to be these:

…which aren’t too much of a fan of my hips either, and still refuse to stay up because they have no waistband to keep them in place, and so I am forced to walk around all day, hitching up my pants quite ungracefully, all while trying to smooth out that supposedly glorious “Secret Fit Belly” without pulling my shirt up to my bra to accomplish that nearly-impossible feat.

I will miss you deeply, my wonderful, wonderful jeans with your excellent, staying-up-powered waistbands.

…and Noah better send me flowers for this sacrifice one day.

Yours Truly,

The Possibly-Neurotic-Because-She’s-Writing-Letters-To-Her-Jeans Pregnant Woman.

A Little Glitter Goes a Long Way…Up Nasal Passages.

October 17, 2010 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Actually Possibly Informational, I'm a Glutton for Adventure

I’ve been seeing all of your awesomely fall crafty posts of how you’re oh-so-fancily decorating your houses for the season, and have mourned my complete inability to pull off anything similar.

After all, I don’t usually write domesticated how-to posts, because my efforts would usually end up being how-NOT-to posts….

Such as, for instance, my horror-movie-for-kids results from my attempt at ironing Ali’s Cubbies patch onto her vest:

She’s not yet forgiven me for melting Cubbie Bear’s midsection off.

”Why did you DO that to Cubbie bear?!”

“Is he still burning??”

“You won’t melt my tummy off if I disobey….will YOU???”

However, I wanted to do SOMETHING fallish and crafty with Ali (preferably that wouldn’t give her nightmares), and the most obvious choice was to use our pumpkins.

But I knew that the pumpkins we picked were not big enough for carving, NOR am I artistic enough to create a successful pumpkin face anyway, so I was unsure…until I found this fun glitter idea on my new friend Amanda’s blog.

Glitter swirls…I think I can handle that without melting anything or gruesomely disfiguring any pumpkins.

But, just in case, I bought a tiny “fake” pumpkin to practice on first:
After all, the pumpkins in her post were all fake (probably a smart move so that they could use them season after season, but I was determined to use our real pumpkins in SOME sort of useful way.)

I drew swirls on the fake pumpkin…
And then I recruited my helper, and moved the project outside to avoid a house-filling Glittertastrophe:

Next came regular Elmer’s glue…

And then the glitter.

It seemed to be working fairly well on the practice pumpkin, so I pulled out the much revered white pumpkin…

And then I put the glittering process into the hands of a three-year-old.…surely I deserve a Mommy Scouts Badge for that risk.

(But then again, I’d probably just melt it trying to put it on my Mommy Vest.)

But it was still going well, so we moved onto our orange pumpkin, which was much harder to draw nice, curvy lines on it due to it’s natural bumps and ridges…

(And really, I wish I had just freehanded the glue – I think the whole process would have been a bit easier.)

After each glitter application, we shook off and then blew off the extra glitter, all while trying to reclaim as much as possible for finishing the rest of the pumpkin.

But, imagine if you can, about half of this extra glitter ending up on my face, due to my attempts to blow it off, and unfavorable wind direction:

…which would explain my glittery nose-blowing for the rest of the day.

…which Ali TOTALLY thought was magical pixie dust.

Of course, it took all of about three rounds of glittering for her to get entirely too bored with the project, but I had prepared: I had sidewalk chalk available, and some awesome flower-like weeds growing in our yard, just waiting to be picked:
After finishing the swirls, I rubbed glue on the stems and sparklefied them as well, but the gold one came out a bit too Vegas-Showgirl for my liking…

So I allowed the white one to stay happily in it’s natural state.

And so, the finished products:

Which means that for now, at least until our pumpkins start rotting and I have to throw them out so that I don’t end up on THAT episode of Hoarders, I can feel just a BIT seasonally appropriately decoratey.

AND, at least until I have a shower, I can be THE most glittery seven-months-pregnant woman on the planet.

I think I’ll call it “Vegas Showgirl on Maternity Leave.”

Giveaway: Win an iPod Nano from AirlineTickets.org!

October 15, 2010 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

I don’t get to fly very often, but I absolutely adore it when I do. The experience of the airport, and all the bustling around, and the plane… it’s just completely thrilling to me.

I know – I’m such a little kid.

But I’m also pretty paranoid about getting the best deal – and experience – possible. I probably still like flying because I’m careful to get nonstop flights whenever possible, and try my best to save as much money as I can in the process.

AirlineTickets.org is full of awesome travel tips – practical ones like saving money on airline tickets and the best airlines to get last minute great deals from, and fascinating ones like the seven most amazing sights from airplanes (which really makes me want to fly again!).

They also have articles on really fun stuff like 10 Bizarre Hotels, in case you’re up for a REAL adventure!

The site is full of useful and fascinating information, and is totally worth your time to check out, whether you fly often or not!!

And, since they’re pretty new and trying to get the word out about their site, they are sponsoring a giveaway here for one of the new and quite fancy 8 GB iPod Nanos!!! And what’s even better – YOU get to pick the color!!!

If you’d like to win the iPod Nano, simply go visit AirlineTickets.org and come back here and tell me a post that you found interesting.

You can get up to four extra entries by:

Commenting on any post at AirlineTickets.org
Tweet, blog, OR Facebook about this giveaway
Subscribe to OR Follow my blog
Follow me on Twitter OR Facebook

(be sure to leave separate comments for your extra entries.)

Best of luck! This giveaway is open until Monday, October 25th. The winner will be randomly selected and posted on my giveaway winners page on Tuesday, October 26th.

Disclosure: I received no compensation for this giveaway. My opinions are always my own. And you should really check out those 10 bizarre hotels – wow.

Pumpkin Fever.

October 13, 2010 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, I would NEVER take too many pictures. . ., Kids: The Experience., The Blissfulness of Life

Our week has been pretty low-key, thanks to a fever virus that Ali contracted quite suddenly at 2am Monday morning.

Although, if a kid’s gonna get sick, I prefer the fever virus over all other ailments, because,

a) parents/other adults seem to be completely immune to it,

b) there are no other awful side effects (like, say, puke) to deal with, and

c) fevers just make kids less energetic and snuggly, which can be mistaken (or purposefully misconstrued) as extra-loving-toward-their-Mommies.

So we hung out at home all day Monday and Tuesday, with my only escape being a pre-planned girl’s night Monday night, which meant that Ali got the benefit of alone time with Daddy, and the “uniquities” that come with that arrangement.

Since Ali had been pretty bummed that she’d had to miss Gymnastics AND Bible Study so as to not spread her fevery goodness (She asked me most pitifully, “But where is a place that I can go???”), Daddy decided to take her to dinner.

And so, they had dinner (yes, DINNER) at Yogurt Mountain:

…which apparently goes a long way to cheer up an otherwise homebound kid.

…until their fever chills kick in, and they can’t eat the rest of their frozen dinner.

And so, they headed home, and after her warm bath just made her colder, Chris decided to do to her what he does to himself when he has a fever, and dressed her from fingertip to toe, with the help of mittens:
And since this worked so well in warming her up AND cheering her up, he put her to bed like that, mittens and all.

And, although I gave him that incredulous “you-put-our-child-to-bed-in-MITTENS?!?!” look when I got home, she didn’t wake up feverish at all that night. And when I got her out of the bed the next morning, she was still quite happily and completely mittened.

Sometimes, Daddy ingenuity pays off.

Luckily (or maybe due to the mittening), her fever left on Tuesday, so we were finally able to leave our quarantine this morning.

And I was quite relieved, because we’d had plans to relive what is currently reigning as Ali’s first memory: Pumpkin Picking.

We went two years ago when Ali was only 20 months old, and she quite surprisingly remembers that trip, and her haul of a white pumpkin, very clearly:

(Don’t be fooled by the proportions – that pumpkin was really the size of a large grapefruit.)

She remembers the event so well, in fact, that she holds quite a bit of bitterness towards me about it – every now and then, she’ll pull out her Feminine Book of Blame and accusatorily ask me, “So what did you DO with my White Pumpkin?!?!?!”

…And so I tell her about the Hoarders episode I saw about that… that lady’s three-year-old pumpkin was not a pretty sight when they unearthed it under a couple dead cats and twenty-five pounds of old newspapers.

But at any rate, I was very glad that she was well in time for our trip so that I could redeem my reputation and let her get a new pumpkin.

And, sure enough, after a hayride with her cousins Eli and Tessa,

(Which offered a spectacular view that was totally worth the entire trip, by the way,)