Yesterday, we picked up Dave's new suit (which he looks hoooooottttt in by the way).
While he was trying it on, there was a little girl, about 9 years old waiting outside the fitting room with me. As I sat down, she immediately asked
how I was doing and what my name was.
I thought that was really nice of her. She was striking up a conversation. I probably would have sat there, staring at the wall (as opposed to the news story on Wall Street that was on TV) the whole time if she didn't say hello.
She asked if I was waiting on a guy too and I said yes. She also said (with much attitude and an eye roll), "They take such a long time don't they?"
Now hold on, who are you? Are you 9 or 30? And who exactly are you waiting on?
Turns out she was waiting on her dad. When he came out, she said, "Looks really good dad, are you going to buy this one?" He said maybe and went back into the fitting room.
She said to me, "is your guy buying a suit because your getting married?" I said, "No, it is for his sister's wedding, we are already married." She then squealed and came over to see my wedding ring.
I miss being 9.
I miss having a vivid imagination (in my day we didn't have toys...we imagined them). I miss my trampoline. I miss running and never getting tired, jumping through the sprinkler with no thought of smearing black lines of mascara, and riding my bike until my legs didn't work right anymore.
Me and "my guy" are off to Utah tomorrow morning for Dave's sister's wedding.
I love weddings, especially when it was my own
I will most likely be blogging abroad (which means from Provo). Hope everyone has a good week!