The Purple Nightmare

I've really got to start keeping this updated.

Started my day off with everyone rushing around like bumper cars. It's lucky that one of the little ones weren't crushed underfoot. (Sigh. All we can do is try.) Fortunately the abominable doofus was already out. I can imagine the pile-up that would have occurred in his wake! Anyway, the reason for all the chaos was a friend's wedding (one of the wife's best friends) was this morning. It was like the culmination of a dark prophecy.

Just the beginning of this week is when the wedding party decided to deliver the dress pattern. So, my wife (recall she's irritable in the daylight) has to make this dress -- be mom to three (9&1/2, 7, and a special-needs 4 year old) children, deal with the abominable doofus, care for her aging father (almost another child sometimes), prepare for a Boy Scouts shin-dig (of which she's the area leader), not to mention deal with me -- in less than a week. (Amazing, ain't she?) Kind of sounds like the biblical signs of apocalypse, right? The similarities are remarkable.

• Snag no. 1: The pattern is not the right size. No big deal. She makes a run to Wal Mart and remedies that.
• Snag no. 2: I had an emergency room visit (false alarm), but it kept us out until 4:00 am!
• Snag no. 3: She sees what it actually looks like! It looks like a big, shiny, purple, v-necked, BIB. It was like seeing her try on a shiny pillow case. No matter how she turned, tapered, pinched, shuffled, or belted it didn't change.

Now, my wife is a real trooper. As much as she hated the Purple Nightmare; as much as she knew it made her look like a pretty sack of potatoes; as much as every grain of her being wanted to set the offending object afire, she kept at it. She repaired an iron-burn (which I'm not entirely sure was an accident), bought the proper support for a strapless smock, and wore it to the wedding. When I saw the tears well up last night, I knew the size of the sacrifice that she was making, and admired her so much more for it. She not only kept a straight face (which I barely could), she pretended it was the most beautiful dress she'd ever had the privilege to touch. Smooth, baby.

Of course, when she had to leave to bring me to work, she did the quickest change I've seen her pull-off in a while. The slip gave her a little trouble though. As I write this, I wonder -- now that her powers are at full capacity -- if she is dancing around a shiny purple fire.

So, hats off to Missus Babbler, she kicks @$$!