My brother would like to live in Austin and I have always wanted a pair of cowboy boots. I pictured myself walking around in denim and vests and saying ya'll and my nose scrunched. Maybe not.
I had to wrap it up and brush my hair at five because tonight I had a cousin date. We had grand plans of pizza and chipmunks and candy. I listened to their excited talking on the way to Babs and Caleb entertained the restaurant with his snowboarding stories while we waited for our delicious cheese pizza. And while I was sitting there watching their sweet ridiculous faces, I felt a little sad. Hannah has grown four and a half inches this year and now she has glasses and boys are starting to realize that she is a girl. I'm glad I was here for all four and a half inches.
Right now they are camped out in my living room, laughing at Steve Martin and his bad french accent. We went to Walmart and spent some quality time in aisle number four making smart purchases. I taught them all about buying in bulk when it comes to pop and candy because the small packages are a rip off and two liters cost half of the price.
Tomorrow we'll wake up with belly aches and drink a lot of water, but tonight is perfect.
Caleb just told me that he's never seen so many globes and maps in his life. I smile and tell him that I love them. Love, love, love. He decides he does too. He likes to spin them. I tell him that I want to go to all of the places I haven't been. He asks where I'm going to start and I have no answer.
I told my mom on the phone a few days ago that I wish someone would marry me so that he would tell me what to do. I would just like to be bossed a bit. I'm fine with the little choices. But these big where will you live and what will you do decisions make me want to stay under the covers all day. She laughed me off and declared it a recipe for disaster.
Maybe I should go stake out a coffee shop for some poor unsuspecting man tomorrow. I'll sit there and look cute and eavesdrop when he gets his coffee. If he orders with confidence, I'll know he has decisive abilities and my problems will be solved. Every man wants someone to save, right? I'm pretty sure I can pull the damsel in distress thing off for a while. Maybe.
Who am I kidding. It's going to take a special fellow to fit well with me, one with extra extra patience. I am moody and indecisive and opinionated. A lethal combination. I leave makeup all over the counter and crowd the shower with hair products. I still push things under the bed when I'm in a hurry and I let my plants die when I was gone for the holidays. And as much as I want an answer right now, I really don't like being told what to do.
I'm sure a few books on being a good female and how to build relationship skills would solve me. But that sounds terribly boring and normal. Maybe he'll have quirks too so I won't feel bad.
I am going to be twenty-five in a few months. A quarter of a century. In high school and college I told everyone that I would get married when I was twenty-seven. I think that seemed like a far away number then and I figured I would have had my shot at the world by then. That was also before I discovered that making plans with numbers is a terrible idea considering God and His pattern of turning my life.
For two seconds my head gets lost in that thought. I have two years to finish my Tasha time and two years to find my match. There aren't enough websites out there. Oh man. Good thing I'm not serious about the twenty-seven thing. And even if I was, I wouldn't say so. Horrid things happen when I say silly things. I am not fond of eating words.
I know I don't believe in the dropping a man into a girl's lap idea, but it would sure be nice. A man with a plan please. I'll take the plan and send him on his way. Maybe. Thank you very much.
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