After three months of swimming lessons, I am proud to announce that EK has upped the threshold from 0 to 12 seconds before we dive in to save him. I know that sounds terrible, but honestly, it's a huge coup; it takes less time for me to house a Three Musketeers bar.
However, I have not yet attained the same level of progress when it comes to tolerating the sh!tstorm known as the swim school parking lot. Soccer lessons + dance school + swim school + a Chicagoland cable provider + some ambiguous business with 12,000 spots and a super creepy font = TOTAL CHAOS. Cue crazytown when I drive past more spots than I have fingers that are "unparkable" due to cars straddling the lines.
Thanks to my girl Peyton Price over at Suburban Haiku, my emotions have been distilled down to 17 syllables.
The parking lot lines are straight,
Are you seeing plaid?
Ahhh! So accurate and awesome. If you haven't yet checked out her book, Suburban Haiku, you MUST; I identify with it far more than I should probably admit.
Now back to googling Patagonia for sales.
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