Oh, The Randomness
Once upon a time, my older sister said something along the lines of "Dude! Here's a promo code for a free breast feeding cover from Udder Covers. All you have to do is pay shipping and handling!"
Everything after "breast feeding cover" was lost to me because I was a little confused as to why she thought I needed one. Last time I checked (at that point in time), I wasn't even dating someone, let alone married, let alone expecting a wee one. After the initial confusion wore off, I thought "Who can pass up a free Udder Cover when they'll need one eventually?!? Not me."
Soooo, I sent in for me free darling purple breast feeding cover (http://www.uddercovers.com/) and it's been securely waiting for me in my closet from that moment on.
Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from the Udder Cover ladies, promoting another free somethin'-somethin'... only this time it had nothing to do with charming fabric related to public decency. This was about the new line of slings they have, and they were going to give me a free one. Sa-weet!
I immediately dove into choosing a darling one, getting the right size, and placing my order. It arrived in the mail last night and after taking a good 20 minutes trying to figure out how in the world to get it on, I figured it out.(pssst! I got the black one... in case you were simply dying to know) (http://www.sevenslings.com/index.php/content/home)
Well, now it seems that all I'm missing is a kid :)
All in good time, my friends. All in good time.
Now I have a story totally unrelated to the above to tell you all. I seem pretty darn good at clumping together two completely dissimilar tales into one blog post.
Have you ever seen those nifty speed limit signs that also tell you YOUR speed right above the posted limit? Yeah, well, we have a love hate relationship. There's a string of those along a road I take to get to my husband's work. It's a matter of pride (either that or some strong O.C.D. tendencies) that I match my speed to the posted limit.
If I don't, it flashes at me... and for some reason, it literally bugs the tar right out of me if I'm going 26 miles per hour and the annoying little sign starts flashing as if saying "OH NO! Slow down! You're gonna run over a kid or a cat or high center on the curb because you're going too fast!"
Just let me go 1 mile per hour over the speed limit, please, Mr. Sign? Ha. No way. There is no margin of error, and for some reason, I have to amuse the stupid thing by submitting to its toilsome demands. Every time.
I mean, really. What's the sign gonna do if I speed past it going 28 miles per hour instead of 25? Beat me up?? Track me down and take away my birthday? Key my car? Nope. But just the flashing numbers are enough to haunt me into acquiescence.
Perfectionist, you say?
Probably.
Everything after "breast feeding cover" was lost to me because I was a little confused as to why she thought I needed one. Last time I checked (at that point in time), I wasn't even dating someone, let alone married, let alone expecting a wee one. After the initial confusion wore off, I thought "Who can pass up a free Udder Cover when they'll need one eventually?!? Not me."
Soooo, I sent in for me free darling purple breast feeding cover (http://www.uddercovers.com/) and it's been securely waiting for me in my closet from that moment on.
Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from the Udder Cover ladies, promoting another free somethin'-somethin'... only this time it had nothing to do with charming fabric related to public decency. This was about the new line of slings they have, and they were going to give me a free one. Sa-weet!
I immediately dove into choosing a darling one, getting the right size, and placing my order. It arrived in the mail last night and after taking a good 20 minutes trying to figure out how in the world to get it on, I figured it out.(pssst! I got the black one... in case you were simply dying to know) (http://www.sevenslings.com/index.php/content/home)
Well, now it seems that all I'm missing is a kid :)
All in good time, my friends. All in good time.
Now I have a story totally unrelated to the above to tell you all. I seem pretty darn good at clumping together two completely dissimilar tales into one blog post.
Have you ever seen those nifty speed limit signs that also tell you YOUR speed right above the posted limit? Yeah, well, we have a love hate relationship. There's a string of those along a road I take to get to my husband's work. It's a matter of pride (either that or some strong O.C.D. tendencies) that I match my speed to the posted limit.
If I don't, it flashes at me... and for some reason, it literally bugs the tar right out of me if I'm going 26 miles per hour and the annoying little sign starts flashing as if saying "OH NO! Slow down! You're gonna run over a kid or a cat or high center on the curb because you're going too fast!"
Just let me go 1 mile per hour over the speed limit, please, Mr. Sign? Ha. No way. There is no margin of error, and for some reason, I have to amuse the stupid thing by submitting to its toilsome demands. Every time.
I mean, really. What's the sign gonna do if I speed past it going 28 miles per hour instead of 25? Beat me up?? Track me down and take away my birthday? Key my car? Nope. But just the flashing numbers are enough to haunt me into acquiescence.
Perfectionist, you say?
Probably.
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