where i were

Besides having the never-ending plague over here, we've had quite the month. I'll spare you all the phlegmy details and instead fill you in on Phil's high school reunion this past weekend.

Here I am with my date, Andrea. Isn't she sweet?

The reunion festivities kicked off at a bar on Friday night and thankfully Andrea, who is the wife of one of Phil's closest and oldest friends and has also become one of my most favoritest peeps, was there to hang out with. I don't know if you've ever been to someone else's class reunion but it's... strange. Right after this picture was taken, we got hit on by a couple of 21 year olds. It was awkward. And weird. By the way, Kevin, Andrea's husband, watched the whole thing happen and didn't come over until after they left. To laugh at us. Did I mention that Kevin secretly reads my blog? Oops... not so secret anymore. Sorry Kev. (Payback.)

At the stroke of midnight our coach was preparing to turn into a pumpkin, but our husbands were not ready to leave so we bounced. However, as we made our exit we realized that it was practically typhooning outstide. (Yes, I realize that I accidentally typed outstide instead of outside but I'm leaving it because it was exactly that... a TIDAL WAVE of rain, pelting my face and my hopes of not having to wash my hair the next morning.) I took off my heels, rolled up my jeans and we made a three-and-a-half-block run for it.

Got back to Phil's parents' house where my children were nestled all snug in their pack-n-plays/whatever and Mama B. and I chatted for a little while before I headed off to bed.

The next morning my hair was curly. Not surprisingly. But it was a delightful day nonetheless. We headed over to see Chantelle, Phil's high school sweetheart (oooooh... scandalous! Not really.) who is like the sweetest girl and has the sweetest family and every time we see them they are so sweet to my kids and it's all very sweet. So the better part of our day was spent visiting and catching up with them, and then we headed back to drop off the kids and head to the Loons baseball game at Dow Diamond.

Now friends, Dow Diamond is something to behold. If you look very closely at this picture

you will notice the awesome chemical plant in the background, spewing loveliness into the beautiful blue sky. So when the fireworks started, all I could think was This can't be good. I named this firework Super Dioxin:

The lovebirds watched the fireworks until the grand finale. And when I say lovebirds, I mean Phil and his friends. After the first one sent a smoldering ash a mere 15 feet from my chair I bolted for the safety of the pavilion and watched the rest of them there. Very carefully. I'm a pansy. I was only thinking of my children.

Here's the crew after the game:

Karen, who was there when Phil and I got engaged; Kerianne, who organized the entire reunion; Phil; and Chantelle.

After the fireworks ended it began to pour. Again. The timing was impeccable in terms of the baseball game but it meant that once again we had to make a run for our car. And my hair was like, WTH. Seriously?

We got up on Sunday, celebrated Father's Day with a yummy breakfast and looooooooots of coffee, packed up the car and headed back to Ann Arbor. Thanks be to Mama and Papa Brabbs for taking such good care of my children; and mad props to my flat iron for coming through like gangbusters this morning.


Becky said...

Okay, what's with all the cute ladies swarming all over your man? Not that I blame them! ;)

Sounds like a fun weekend! And I wish you'd do an instructional post on the use of the flat iron, because I've been trying to use mine, and I just come out looking kind of overly poofy.

Cassie said...

Oh, I'm used to women swarming him. He has four sisters and a doting mother. He'll never be mine and mine alone.

And girlfriend, we don't have the kind of humidity here in Meeechigan that y'all have in the south. When we lived 'round those parts my hair was always in a ponytail. I hear "product" helps, but I'm not entirely sure what that means...

Bex said...

mad props to your flat iron, for reals!

sounds like you had a really good time. and it was the best kind of time bc you could still see your kids but not hang out with them.

Andrea said...

15 minutes of fame on Spilled Milk. Yay! :)
That was a good time and memorable to boot...how often do we get awkward pick up lines from youngens...
Maybe 21 Year Old Kid: "It looked like you were having a serious conversation. Care to let me in on it?"
Married Mamas: "Um, no. Definitely not."