Yesterday, Cheyenne and I attended "Leader/Daughter Day" at a Girl Scout Camps north of Oklahoma City. (Oh. Did I mention I volunteered to take over her girl scout troop this year?) Anyhow, the event itself was worthless. The ladies were all much older and much more…Amish-y than me. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. They’re not Amish, I’m sure, because we all drove cars and had cell phones. But the other mothers all had really long hair, no make-up, and wore the dreaded "mommy" jeans. (Yeah, I know. Weren’t those outlawed?) Cheyenne got to play with children, who, according to her, were waaaay too young–2nd and 3rd graders. Brownies. I tell ya.
So after we ske-daddled out of there, we decided to stop for ice cream and hit a few neato stores. Actually, we only hit one. If you’re ever in OKC, check out "The French Cowgirl" on Western Avenue. I just fell in love with this funky little store. And, we spotted several places we’d like to hit sometime between now and next year–The Paseo district of Oklahoma City–art galleries out the yin-yang. Can’t wait.
I have exactly 7.0 days before we leave for Pensacola. I’m literally bouncing off the walls. I would’ve packed already if I didn’t need to wear clothes this week. I’ve got my little sister’s Bachelorette Scavenger Hunt all planned out, typed up, and ready for take-off. My head is just spinning thinking about all the fun stuff I’ll get to do down there–mostly hang out with my family. Catch up with my friends. Hold a baby. Hit the beach. The word "heaven" comes to mind…