Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The minion has spoken
I have been properly put into my place by the dd. Her comment in response to yesterday's post was that "Thomas gets all the attention," so, as penance, I told her I would devote an entire post to her awesomeness. Cause that's how I roll. Lest I get rolled over.
She's still a fairly new driver, you know. Unlike me, she didn't roll over two bikes and a radio in her first year of pulling out of our driveway. That's because she's awesome. Not because I had anything to do with teaching her to drive, because a) I had my eyes closed in prayer most of the time cause I hate being a passenger and b) everyone knows I can't go in reverse, much less teach how to do it. It's kind of a legend around here. That, and my lack of parallel parking skills which, I might also say, Jill rocks at. She didn't get that from me.
Anyway, I was truly remiss in mentioning that the French dinner was her thought, and the boys were likely dragged into it unwillingly (and perhaps with a threat or two), but hey, she rallied the team, and rallied them well. She's pretty darn good at that. I'd say that we could send her to the Middle East to solve all of their problems, except she wouldn't care unless there were a) animals in danger and b) hot guys there. But she'd definitely solve the problems with the animals. The hot guys would have a new problem -- her father.
DD has rare talents, too. She went through most of her first three or four years of life with change for a dollar in her mouth, and nothing was larger than a dime. Need money for a pay phone? Just had to have her open up and stick out her tongue, and there it would be, frequently with a baby wipe too. She had an odd thing for (clean) baby wipes. Not sure why, but it made her look like a cottonmouth most days. Maybe it's got something to do with why she won't eat meat now, I don't know, but to be able to walk around that percentage of time without swallowing one of those coins is just awesome. Better than her younger brother could do.
She can sing, beautifully. She actually had an animal rescue for a while, from age 10-13 or so. Adopted out about 100 cats, spayed and with their shots, all paid for by her fundraising efforts. Heck, this girl sold the crap outta Girl Scout cookies when she was in kindergarten. Batted those baby blues and said, with a lisp, "would you like to buy some Girl Thcout cookies?" Won the contest hands down. She knows how to raise money. Anyway, I digress. Some lady adopted a cat from dd. Later, she called to ask if we sang to Bessie a lot. Turned out that the cat would only come if they sang to her, cause the brat always sung when she was cleaning out cages. What song do you sing, to get a cat to come to you in the barn? Hmmmm...
Anyway, her brother feels that her singing contends with the people on American Idol, and he's right, most days. Her whistling, however is, well.........let's face it, she can't whistle. She's valiantly trying, because she knows we should never give up just because things are hard. Sounds like we have a warbler in the house, most days. Drove the animals nuts for a while, till they figured out it was the brat, sucking air in, cause she can't whistle whilst blowing out. Guess she missed that "just put your lips together and blow" thing. But she looks cute trying. She's just cute, period.
I could go on forever about her awesomeness, but why use it all in one post? Maybe I should have an appointed Jillie Day, once a week, or once a month, just to update you all on her coolness. After all, I haven't mentioned the new hair color, the new hair cut, or the new job yet. So see, it's not all about Thomas -- he's been on the Naughty List this week. Jillie, however stays on the Nice list, cause that's how she rolls.
And so, I asked Her Awesomeness what her favorite color was, and she said green -- then drove me nuts asking why I wanted to know. I never told her, but went looking for something vintage, green, and maybe as awesome as my Bratty Gurl. And what do you know, I found this Mignon dress, from Persian Room Vintage, on the bay. Ironic, because in French (like in my French dinner) means "nice." Which is what it's like, having my Pretty Girl around.