Saturday Morning Post, Vol. 49


So I used to work at a toy store (for 4 years). As anyone who has worked retail can tell you, “I’ve seen some things.”

It was late. Or it probably wasn’t so late. It was fall, so it could have been 4 pm yet it was pitch black outside. And here comes in what I call the prime example of The Clueless Father. He walks in, 10 year-old-ish son in tow. The son is wearing a full Pikachu, onesie type costume. It’s sometime around Halloween. I shrug. I’ve seen stranger things than Pikachu walk in the store.

The pair settle on a packet of Playfoam. Sounds like it’s a gift.

“Do you want that wrapped?” I asked as they set it on the counter.

The dad shrugs. “Sure.”

“Need a birthday card?” (We have two spinners next to the cash wrap.)

“Grab a birthday card,” the dad says to the son.

The poor kid leans in close, his face a little exasperated, “It’s not his birthday, dad. It’s a costume party.”

Well that explains Pikachu.

I can’t remember if the dad’s face was more embarrassed or bewildered. The kid was bewildered, probably having wondered why they were at the toy store in the first place buying a present for his friend, and now even more bewildered wondering how dad could have gotten it so wrong.

But it’s wrapped anyway, because the dad is now flustered and doesn’t know what to do.

But I can imagine the situation that happened minutes earlier. Dad wasn’t paying attention enough to note that he was taking his son to a costume party (despite his son wearing an actual costume). He’s used to taking his kids to a plethora of birthday parties for kids he has never met and never heard of and might never hear of again. So in the car he asks his son if he has a present for his friend. Son says no. Well, off to the toy store the dad says. And the kid just….is like um, I don’t understand, but ok.

Good effort, dad.


So, as you may have heard, I am back to editing again. As usual, there are more rewrites than I originally wanted, but that’s ok. But you know what’s not ok?


It’s like this: There’s a part in your book that you want to redo. And it’s not just changing one scene, it’s changing multiple scenes, multiple chapters. And it is at this point my head explodes. It goes like this:

“Ok, so this is going to happen instead of that. So this part will remain this same, but these two scenes will be squished together, and we’re getting rid of this scene, but, that screws up the timeline. It takes three days for this character to get there, and five days for this other character to get there, and once they are there…but wait? Why would they do that now? Ok that means these chapters need to trade places….”

It’s a brain teaser. It is vastly confusing. My brain most inconveniently melts. Making macro changes like this to a book I swear are the hardest parts about editing, just from a logistical standpoint (from a mental standpoint it’s line edits).


I never really thought I would turn out to be a clothes hound. I never saw it coming, though I really should have. Clothes are the things I “comfort buy”. I can’t pass up a cute shirt at a thrift store, will anytime dive into a bag of clothes that people don’t want, and have continually bought shoes I don’t necessarily “need”.

I guess it all started when I was very little. Like any early 2000’s kid, I wasn’t fashionable like the youngsters are now, with cute little boots and cute little jeans jacket and fur and unicorn accessories. I had a wardrobe made nearly entirely out of hand-me-downs (which is actually super environmentally friendly). I was known for wearing red with pink, and flower patterned pants with flower patterned tops, to the horror of my older sister who realized that those things did not go together at all.

But listen, maybe my color coordination wasn’t that great, but I was creative. I was figuring out my style and having fun with it. Or at least….that’s what was going on in my head. I was creating outfits (however unsuccessful they might have been).

How to Train Your Dreaction Gifs

I do remember one outfit I loved, one that actually matched. A pair of jean overalls with a long-sleeved, yellow turtleneck. I think I was a little convinced that it was a vision of my future, when I would be a farmer and obviously wear overalls all the time.

My dreams of being a farmer were short lived, and reserved only for that time I was standing in that outfit.


If you’re from the Midwest (like I am), you might currently be in that weird “False Spring” season. It’s nice because the weather is actually getter warmer, but terrible because it might be 50 degrees one day and snowing the next. It’s the season of “You Never Know What to Wear Because It Could Be Any Possible Temperature Out and the Temperature Vastly Fluctuates During A Single Day.”

But the cool thing is, the other day it was finally warm enough for me to drive with BOTH windows down.

Aw yeah. Living the dream.

But then…I’m driving, tunes playing, windows down. It’s sunny and over 50 degrees and the roads are busy. And as I’m driving past all the other cars….their windows are shut. Almost all the windows are rolled up. HOW.

How, on a such a beautiful day, can you leave your windows up??? Don’t you want to feel the warm wind on your face??? Don’t you want fresh oxygen in your lungs??? Don’t you AT LEAST want to air out your car??

I’ll never understand.


Favorite typo of the week, “He threw a punch a punch.”


I have a feeling I spaced out after writing the first “a punch” so I just typed it again. Another good one is I wrote “sitting” instead of “city”. Like yes, one is a verb and one is a noun, but they do sound awfully similar, right?? Sometimes the lack of coordination of what is going on inside my head and what is coming out in my hands is startling.

{and that concludes this Saturday’s post. Enjoy your weekend} {and do yourself some good and listen to In Love on the Wonder Woman 1984 (Sketches from the Soundtrack) album}

2 responses to “Saturday Morning Post, Vol. 49”

  1. #1 is HILARIOUS. Poor dad. But…XD
    FALSE SPRING IS REAL. And I’m not even in the Midwest! It’s been alternating between 50s & 60s and sunny and 40s and 50s and absolutely pouring. Fun times.
    I’m so glad I’m not the only one who types words that *phonetically* sound like what I’m trying to write, but mean ENTIRELY different things. Because I do that all the time, and it kind of weirds me out, honestly.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. YES EXACTLY. I don’t know why my brain so often defaults to writing words “phonetically” (thank you for pulling that word out, because that explains it). I sometimes think it’s because I write so much and my brain just sputters out XD


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