Plan? What plan?

Today had started with a simple schedule: Kyle's first soccer game of the season was this morning, and this afternoon I was headed up to have my sister give my hair a desperately needed trim. In between, the ever-present homework beckoned.

The first part went pretty much as planned. The game came and went as scheduled, and the kids had their share of fun. Kyle's team lost, but he was not entirely despondent; he had three shots on goal, one of which went into the net-- the team's lone goal of the game. And there was also the post-game treat bag, which always goes a fair way toward assuaging the agony of defeat.

Then I get a call from Jan, who suggests coming to our house to do the hair thing-- because this would be a good day to use up the gift certificates that our father had given us a while back, for a store at the local mall (which is closer to my place than hers).

So, she comes down-- and not only gives both CJ and I a trim, but elects to touch up (and then some) the color that we'd played with, a while back. So now, newly coiffed, Jan and I head to the mall, and spend two mortal hours in this store, trying to find things on which to spend Dad's money.

This was harder than you might think. First, the styles in this particular establishment were not, by and large, the sort of thing I usually look for. Secondly, the sizes bore no resemblance to anything in reality, so everything had to be tried on, in multiples. The things I ended up bringing home had size tags in them that the back of my neck hasn't seen since junior high. (And no, Susie-- they had no shorts that suited at all; we'll have to try another day).

So, this was an unexpected way to spend the afternoon. Wonder if Bruce'll recognize his wife when he gets home.