STLWorkingMom

My daughter was playing some wholesome, educational math games online this evening when she said, “All this talk of Pi is making me hungry.” At least that was how it was spelled in my head, so I was all jazzed about Pi and her math education when she explained it was slices of pie and fractions.

We’re celebrating my dad’s 70th birthday this weekend. That got me to thinking this morning. Dig this: I’ll be 35 this year, my parents will be 70. I was born in ‘70; they were born in ‘35. They’re both going to be twice my age; I’ll be the age they were when I was born.

I guess if you’re into numerology this might be interesting. I try to have as little to do with numbers as possible.

On my commute home last night, I stopped at a red light and glanced into the rearview. Behind me were a man and a woman in a pickup truck, both engaged in the absorbing task of picking their respective noses. Ew.

I forgot to plug in this week’s edition of the shopping column with my new fave eyeshadow and a new way for girls to have fun.

I celebrated having the TV to myself last night, waiting up for my teenager who was at a party (his life is infinitely more exciting than mine, right now). I poured myself a glass of Pinot Noir (red) and popped in the DVD of Sideways, ready for a relaxing evening.

About halfway through the movie and into my second glass I managed to knock the entire glass onto the cream colored carpet and spent the rest of the movie in ardent stain-removal mode.