Red Letter, Green Sweater Day

Yesterday was a bigstinkingdeal kind of day--the good kind, not the sarcastic kind.  We packed the kids in van & braved the crowds to finish our Christmas shopping.  This in itself is not notable beyond the fact that Dave & I have finally matured past the point of doing all of our Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve--at Walgreens.   The mall was as expected, a crush of crazies & their whining children who were promised a visit to Santa but not prepped for the hour & a half wait.  (Side note of hilarity: it took two mall cops to shut down the Santa line when it was time for the big man to take a lunch break.  At first I thought that was excessive, but you know there were frazzled moms that made the brute squad perfectly necessary).  Back to the throngs of people, here's the part where it gets good...

Dave: "Sara, I can't auto-recognize you in a crowd anymore."
Sara: "Huh?"
Dave: "You look so different & we go out so little that I'm not used to what you look like when I'm trying to find you in a crowd."

Aside from the clearly depressing part about us not going out in public--even to a mall--on a very regular basis, how exciting is that?!?!?  I have pulled off the ultimate disguise & I can now begin my life as a spy.  Even my husband won't recognize me as long as I do all of my spying in densely populated spaces.  Montana, you are safe.

I swear that is stove-top cleaner, not a bottle of hooch in the background.

As if that wasn't awesome enough, I got lured into a store promising an additional 40% off of sale items (I know, how could I just walk by?) & ended up hesitantly coming out with a sweater with no "extras" on the tag.  None.  Not one & certainly not two.  When we got home, I tried it on immediately.  Dave was outside shoveling.  I was so excited that it fit, I tore out of the house screaming "I'm extra free, I'm extra free!"  Poor guy, he looked at me as though I was making some sort of commentary on the state of Tibet & I'm sure my neighbors think I'm insane (the screaming was accompanied by a little move-busting--wouldn't you know, Dave was playing "Dynamite" when I came out).  Sorry neighbors, sorry neighbors' house sitter, on a day this great, nothing to do except host a dance party on your front step.