Two members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints came knocking on my door one Wednesday afternoon. In white shirts and ties they announced that they would soon be opening a vacuum shop down the street. They offered to clean a patch of my blue, 70's carpet with their machine. They invited me to try out their magical cleaning products.
Slowly, a realization dawned on me. These friendly chaps weren't Mormons. They were vacuum cleaner salesmen.
Growing up in the Aloha state, the only men I had ever seen wear a tie on a daily basis were lawyers and Mormons. Well Toto, we're not in Hawaii any more. Welcome to the mainland, where people dress up.
Guy 3, my little bro' from Hawaii, visited us this fall. Tromping through Seattle, somewhere between Pike's Place fish market and the space needle, a friend quietly noticed, "Guy 3's backpack is covered in pink flowers."
Looking around, I noticed something new: Northwestern men don't wear flowers.
Luckily, 11-month-old has a limited vocabulary. Therefore, he didn't have a say in what to wear to Husband's much-anticipated Company Christmas party. It's almost as anticipated as the "Company Vacation"... but that's another story. Over his wintry garb, I dressed 11-month-old in a red and green aloha shirt (with flowers).
As we meandered through neighborhoods, looking for lights after the Christmas party, rain fell on our car. Rain danced. Rain flurried. It wasn't rain!
Back home at midnight, Husband and I tucked 11-month-old into his cozy pack 'n play and headed out to tromp circles through our snowy backyard.
I wouldn't trade this winter for the world... but I might trade a day of it for a spam musubi.