I’m a list-maker by nature. It’s almost an addiction with me. I have one central list that I use on a daily basis and when it becomes too hard to read as I’ve marked things off, I rewrite whatever’s not done on a new sheet of my yellow Ampad efficiency tablet that sits right by my keyboard, alongside my John Deere coffee mug and my Dell keyboard.
I marked so many things off of my to-do list this week, I actually had to get a new pad. Forget going to a new sheet. I went to a new pad, people! I’m taking productivity to a whole new level…instead of focusing on things I haven’t accomplished, I’m going to try turning over a new leaf and start writing things down that I have accomplished that weren’t originally on my list, just so I’ll feel better about myself. Oh, I kid. (sort of) And the first two paragraphs of this entry have absolutely NOTHING to do with the latter part. Just keep that in mind, won’t you?
Friday was Chick-Fil-A’s “Cow Appreciation” Day and if you dressed like a cow from head to toe, you got a free meal. My eldest daughter got up really early and started working on her costume. She cut up black pantyhose and safety-pinned them all over her t-shirt and culottes, and then moved on to her sister and brother’s. The girl printed out cow ears and noses, fitted them onto headbands and sunglasses, colored white socks to look like cloven hoofs and even painted her face (I made her wash it off before we left, however – I felt she looked more like a ghoul than a cow). I wore a white t-shirt that we painted to look like a cow and we were off to the mall.
My husband dropped us off because he had an appointment and was going to meet us back there when he was done. Picture this – high noon at the only mall within 2 hours driving distance and I walk in with my three calves wearing flip-flops and me as the mama cow. I held my head high and proud, however. I wasn’t gonna let my pride stand in the way of a free chicken sandwich. The sad thing is that I’m always saying I feel like a cow…but today, I also looked like one. All I was missing was Bessie’s bell. Needs more cowbell, I tell ya. (props to anyone who can tell me what that last line is from)
Fortunately, my sweet husband was gracious enough to leave us at the entrance where the Chik-Fil-A was actually located and not down and the other end of the mall (don’t think he didn’t think about it) because the looks we got when we entered? It took me back to ninth grade, it did. I was as self-conscious as a Freshman walking down the Senior hall for the first time. Thank goodness I had my Ray Bans on because people were giving us that “I’m not gonna stare” look where they duck their heads down and glance sideways until we walked by…you know the one. I simply smiled back and said in my most high school voice “Why don’t you take a picture? It lasts longer?” (okay, I didn’t say that, I only thought it)
My daughter froze when we got to the restaurant becuase no one there was dressed up, save one lone employee, who was wearing a “Eat More Chikn” t-shirt. No one. How sad, I thought. Of course, then I wondered aloud, “Oh my gosh…I hope we’re not here on the wrong day! I would be ‘udderly’ embarrassed.” (I have no shame)
But then the heavens opened up and I heard what can only be described as the melodious sound of the cowbell ringing – never had anything from the farm sounded so beautiful in my life. As the last customer moooooved over to make way, we stepped up to the counter with 492 sets of eyes on us, the manager came out from back and exclaimed exuberantly, “You-are-the-very-first-folks-we’ve-had-all-day-actually-dress-up!” Apparently, it is so special that it requires a manager to take the order and process it. After he handed us our order, he wanted us to go over to the cardboard cows and take a photo with him and the cows (so he could show his district manager?), which we did.
I felt like Chick-Fil-A royalty and wanted to bask in the glow of the adoration we were receiving from our Chick-Fil-A subjects until I remembered that I left my camera in the van with my husband and I would have no photos for the blog. I suddenly felt ill. I called my husband to remind him to bring it in and he promised he would – but he forgot. So when we got home and he dropped us off, I thought, “Well, it’s not during the moment, but I’ll take the photos before we change out of our costumes.” It was then that I realized the camera was still in the van. With my husband. Who was on his way out of town. Argh? By then, the kids were tired and sweaty and no longer in the mood for photo ops, so I did what any blogging mom would do – I pouted a little bit.
Now…If only I can figure out how to sneak that photo from the manager of the store – I’d be golden. Any ideas?
So did any of you participate? Or have you ever done anything for your kids that just about embarrassed you to pieces? Come on…fess up.
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