Sure, it’s funny, but I still can’t mail my bills.

Fine. I’ll admit it. The majority of my posting process goes like this: my sis Kate will email/call me with something wacky, we’ll laugh/joke/talk about it for an hour, I’ll write a post about it, I’ll call her to see if she’s read the post, she’ll read it and be the first to comment, she’ll call me back to see if I’ve received the comment, and we’ll talk some more about how funny whatever it was actually was in the first place. Ah, the magic of the internet. It really brings people together!

Next youngest sis Chel just landed in Venice for her summer of thesis research (i.e., finding just the right blend of tasteful and funky in a Venetian glass gift for one’s sister[s].) Youngest Em (she’s not the youngest Em I know, just the youngest one in my immediate family) is sailing around the continent in a makeshift dinghy, collecting marine samples that, through careful study, may save us all. (I actually have no idea what she’s doing there, I imagine it’s on a real boat that someone else made. There was talk of snailing, whatever the heck that is. I think it’s a science term.)

And as for me, I spent yesterday with my Wednesday/Friday gals and a playdate friend. The sun was sunshiney and the juice boxes were flowing like water with organic fruit blends added. Our first stop was Dunkin’ Donuts, as I had promised my older gal a pink froster for my birthday on the 6th (You see, on my birthday I like to take my kids out to do all the fun stuff I like to take me out to do. My hope is to one day have a cavalcade of children gleefully exclaim “Oh, it’s her birthday at last!) However, on that day we enjoyed torrential downpours so it had to be postponed. Her friend had never even been to a Dunkin Donuts and kept asking what this place was called, again. There were two pink frosters left on display, so my older gal said, “Hmm. Splitsies?” Thusly, pink frosters and apple cinnamon jammers were eaten on our way to the sticker store. (Why? What do you do at your office? I know that Nat plays volleyball.)

SO. The sticker store, a.k.a. Scrapbook Source is quite a cool place. Unfortunately, it’s going out of business. Fortunately, I let the girls load up their arms with stickers and fancy paper and it only cost six bucks. (75% off the clearance items? We’re going back on Friday.)

Then, we went to the park and had a picnic. The girls and a few other chickadees they met inevitably started to play in the way that girls of any age [ahem, middle school] are wont to do- at the exclusion of one or two. It was then that I had my moment of brilliance. “Girls…do you know how to make a bird’s nest?” No, they said. (Me neither. Turns out, making a passable bird’s nest is three parts confidence and one part dexterity with clovers.) I told them that EVERYONE had to work together to get each ingredient. Before you could say ‘Hannah Montana’ (what is it with me and Miley Cyrus lately?) I had piles of twigs, long-stemmed clover flowers, dirt, leaves and wood chips (city kids in playlots think wood chips are naturally found in large quantity out of doors) at my disposal. We tied knots in the long grasses, stuck flowers in the loops, tied twigs with clover around the outer ring and stuck bits and pieces of nature in the gaps to make it “comfy.” The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to convince birds to move in. That part was a little depressing. But at least we were all playing nicely!

In other Chicago news, the postal annex on Lincoln and Addison is out of stamps. Their vending machines will take your money, oh yes they will, but when you inquire as to where the heck are my stamps, you’re informed that they’re gone. Gone, you ask? They took them away, you are informed. Who took them? And what did you do?