Caught Red-Tongued-ed

I didn’t want to mention it yesterday because I didn’t want it to come off like bragging. Since it’s a day later, I feel like it’s come and gone, and that’s that. I had a half-day at work yesterday because of school-wide standardized testing. Since I do not have a homeroom, my official job consisted of sporadically relieving teachers who did. So from about 8 AM to 10:30 AM, I graded papers while I waited for lives to regenerate on Candy Crush. The bad news: it takes so long for lives to regenerate on Candy Crush. The good news: I got the grading finished. The better news: I went home, watched playoff baseball, and gorged myself on french bread pizza without burning the roof of my mouth. The best news: I got in a little free time with Mad.

Don't let the smile fool you, she's a devious child.

Don’t let the smile fool you, she’s a devious child.

Sometimes when I pick Mad up from school and we have time, I’ll drive to the gas station near our home for an Icee and a snack. We sit on the concrete outside of the mini-mart and take sips and bites until I decide it’s time to go home. Yesterday Madison and I stepped up to the size above our usual 22 oz. cup because – as Madison pointed out “Maybe we’ll want more after.” It was sound logic. But it was also a case of foreshadowing.

When we got home, I turned the tv back on and watched the TBS post-game. Madison had disappeared into the computer room and it was very quiet. Parents know this is highly suspicious. “Madison!” I called. She appeared in the doorway. “Yes, dad?” she said. “Why are you hiding from me?” I asked. A broad smile broke out on her face. “Because I love you!” she said. She dove into me as I lay on the couch. “IS IT BECAUSE YOU’RE HIDING THE ICEE FROM ME?” I growled. She started laughing wildly, her red-stained tongue popping out of her mouth. I tickled her. “I’ll bring it!” she said. She ran off into the computer room and this is what she looked like on the way back.

All the girls in a single shot, L-to-R: Abby, Madison, Flat Madison, Pink Honey, Lynnette.

All the girls in a single shot, L-to-R: Abby, Madison, Flat Madison, Pink Honey, Lynnette.

For reasons that remain unclear to me, Pas de Deux – Madison’s dance studio – required the Goob to be in full costume and makeup last night. Lynnette mentioned something about the studio wanting to record the class performance. “Didn’t they do that on that night?” I asked. Lynnette shrugged her shoulders. Well, despite the fact that I had been at home since lunch, it still meant Lynnette had to get off of work early because Madison needed her makeup applied and her hair done. I couldn’t find an appropriate image on the internet which would properly convey the kind of wreck Madison would have been had I even attempted a makeup job. Suffice it to say she would have been giving everyone the People’s Eyebrow all day. By the end of the afternoon’s makeup session, Madison had red lips to go along with her tongue.

This is the face my daughter makes when she innocently attempts to get the no-makeup-outside-the-house embargo lifted.

This is the face my daughter makes when she innocently attempts to get the no-makeup-outside-the-house embargo lifted.

Lynnette and I spent the hour of Madison’s dance class at a nearby Starbucks. She played with her Surface and I continued grading. It was moderately productive, but I was interrupted constantly by Lynnette’s non-sexual (I hope think) “Mmm-ing,” because she was looking at images of food on Cat Toth’s blog. She can spend hours looking at two-dimensional representations that create such a yearning in her, it is nearly NSFW or NSFStarbucks. Lynnette browses through and fantasizes about the pictures found on that blog the same way I used to browse through and fantasize about the pictures found in… an Eastbay Catalogue, yeah, that’s it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s