A walk among friends.

Miss Sniz and I walked the neighborhood today. Well, back up. It wasn't exactly the whole neighborhood. More like the cul-de-sac I live on. I couldn't venture further because I still needed to care for my kids. So we made laps on the cul-de-sac in the 30-some degree weather. The sunshine was deceiving, and we quickly discovered it was much colder than it appeared. Didn't help that the wind was blowing too.

So Miss Sniz needed a few more layers and let. me. tell. you., she came to the right house We Clampetts H's know how to dress. For scarf selection, I had a black and silver fuzzy thingy or a black wool scarf that, given the amount of lint it sported, might have come straight from the sheep (there was that one homeschool fieldtrip to a sheep farm last fall.) Sniz knows how to style it, so of course she went with the fuzzy thingy.

For head cover, it was all about the ears. Folks, I don't "do" hats because when you have Roseanna Roseanna Danna hair, you don't stick a hat on your head and then survive the humiliation of removing it later on. Curly haired gals, can I get an Amen? So, I had a lovely pair of black ear muffs on. Not wanting Sniz to feel underdressed next to me, I naturally offered her my royal back up pair.

Bright red.

Yes, all I had to offer was a pair of reaally bright red ear muffs (which I'm thinking would have went just swell with her lavender gloves). However, when I fetched them for her, I realized they were covered in baby spit. Brandon had apparently found them and used them as a chew toy teether. Normally, they wouldn't be available to him, but I had sat them out in anticipation of my kids playing outside while we walked.

Okay, so off we went, sporting some high falutin' outerwear accessories (because we're all sassy like that), determined to get our 30 minute power walk in in the cold. There were but a few setbacks, somewhat expected with littles playing outside within sight of us. First, we were but 5 or 6 houses down the street when I heard a bellowing, "MAMA!" from behind me. It was my 8yo wanting to know if she and Sniz's daughter could have gum. Okay then, it's 30-something degrees outside and my little Einstein thought it would be a good idea to run screaming coatless down the street after her power walking mama to get permission to eat gum. Hey, at least she sought permission.

Next, my 6yo son met us as we came back from the end of the street. He got in front of me and I put my arm on his back to adjust his poky pace to meet ours. Only, I occasionally forget this is a bad idea when a child has some motor coordination issues. Down he went, and came up tearful, thinking he might have skinned his knee. I spelled to Sniz, "He's going to F-R-E-A-K if he sees B-L-O-O-D." I prepared for the hysterics to come. Thankfully, nary a scratch. As we rounded the culdy and passed my house, Cierah, age 4, decided to set Indy pace with Franny and her baby stroller, pulling out directly in front of us. She was walking slow enough to reduce our pace, but fast enough that we couldn't seem to get by her.
"Mam, step out of the car." "Cierah, step aside for moment, honey."

And then there was the strange, grinning man who pulled over in his truck, rolled down his window and joked to Sniz and I, "You ladies are going to get dizzy walking around in cirles like that."
Huh??? Who the blivens was that? Sniz thought he might be my neighbor. Nope. I've never seen that grinning Chesser in my life. Odd.

Anyway, we finished walking and got to see our daughters sporting "Best friends" on their foreheads in permanent marker. Well okay, not exactly. It was permanent marker, but the words were written on clear Scotch tape. Brilliant "tattoos", don't you think? Why I didn't think to grab the camera, I'm not sure. I'm usually one to grab a quick shot of such sweet and simple moments.

And finally, in almost 18 years of marriage, I've only ever had to completely toss out a cooked meal once. I made a reaaaaally bad pot of pinto beans once and we just had to throw it out. And that "one failed dish" record has held for nearly 18 years.

Until today.

Today, I made a pot of chili before Sniz stopped by. I felt all proud of myself too, that I had prepared dinner early so I could focus on my battalion death march power walk with Sniz. Folks, it's clear to me now. I have genuine bean issues. This time, it was chili. The worst chili ever. I told Sniz, "It isn't very good," but Carl said it a bit more directly.

"BLECHHHHH!"
I do believe he actually wretched as he spit his bite into the kitchen sink and said, "That's na-sty."
And it was.
I was in denial until that moment but it was nasty. That is, unless you like your horse meat covered in beans and chili spices. Chili gone wild!

I'm happy to say Penn Station subs was a delicious plan B. Still, it's hard to watch your efforts literally go down the drain. But if we were meant to be a beanless people today, so be(an) it.

Toni