Rosie is signed up to go on a People To People "ambassador" trip to Australia this summer.
This means she gets to go on a 3 week vacation while her Dad and I take out a second mortgage to pay for the trip.
And the new luggage.
And the new clothes.
That's OK, though. You know me, just sittin' around with nothing to do most of the time, so it's nice that I get to drive her to the monthly meetings which are an hour away. I love parking my ample hindquarters on a middle school cafeteria bench for two hours.
Apparently, the chief thing the good folks at P2P need to teach is that the kids shouldn't pack any jeans. Some of the best moments of my life have been spent learning this, because they've gone over it in depth
at every freaking meeting.
I've also learned that, as the person in charge of the refreshments committee, I have become the Snack Nazi.
You haven't gotten back to me by the end of the day on the carb you're volunteering to bring?
I will hunt you down.
Tonight was a bit embarrassing for Rosie, though. The P2P leader was talking about dress code (and yes, she reviewed their standing on jeans. Again.) She looked down the line and said, that shirt there would be fine, so would that one, etc,etc.
Then she got to Rosie.
My hussy daughter.
Leader woman said, "Yeah, you wouldn't be able to wear that. Bare shoulders aren't really appropriate."
Poor Rosie. My sweet little tramp in her layered tank tops.
You know that scene in Alien where Sigourney Weaver backs herself very s-l-o-w-l-y into the space suit when she's in that little shuttle with the creepy critter? Yeah. That was Rosie s-l-o-w-l-y easing herself into her jacket after leader lady called her out on her streetwalker's attire.
Walking out to the car at the end of the meeting, Rosie looked down and gasped in shock.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"My ankles are showing! I'm mortified!"
Can anyone recommend a good convent for my little Jezebel?