The "parking ticket"

As I mentioned in my previous post I went to JoAnn fabrics for Mickey Mouse stuff. I took Rich's big, manly, black truck to the 'ladies fabric store' with Olivia and we shopped til we dropped -or til she started getting fussy and wasn't into wandering the aisles looking at cupcake holders, baskets for the entryway, tulle for tutus and clearance St. Patricks day items.

So I checked out and headed out to the truck.

Buckle baby up - check.
Put purse and bags in the car - check.
Put stroller in the back- check.
Wave at your Aunt across the parking lot- oops, not her- scurry into the car.
Turn key aaaaaaaaanddd.. crap!

The truck was dead in JoAnn fabrics. Taking up 2 spots no less. Rich had it towed to our house and handed me a ticket I received for my parking



I thought these were fake until I received one myself. Looks like they got their wish, because the starter went out. I sure hope my pits don't get fleas.





















My normally happy girl was so fussy all of Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. We had Easter photos and every single one of them is of her blankly staring at the camera with zero expression on her face.

Nothing made her happy. Not a nap, not food, being held, being set down, not even the ear-worn "Hot Dog Song". Growth spurt? Homeslice is just not happy.

Parenting at its finest, giving the baby ice cream to quiet her down. 
Bath time will always bring out that big toothy smile
She was probably just upset that her Mom can't park for shit.

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