A Pep Rally
Let's talk real, shall we?
I mean I am all about some real.
Real life. Real stuff.
Ever have times where you so wish you could walk into a gymnasium only to find it full up of band members dressed in their most dramatically ornate uniforms? You know the kind with the fringy shoulder cuffs and feathered tall caps? Yes, that kind. And, they were playing a high bass kick-to-the-beat-don't-stop-get-it-get-it rhythm line for you? And, the drum major was all high steppin' in place with his spirit baton staff waving obnoxiously in the air.
And cheerleaders?
Don't forget the cheerleaders.
Like 4 squads of them with rockstar ponytails flippin' and twistin' like slinkys all over the hardwood and cheering your name.
By now, the fans in the stands would have formed a human tunnel just so you could make your grand entrance to center court. Each one with tee shirts on that boasted your name and positive sayings about you.
Yeah.
That don't-stop-get-it-get-it beat.
Well, that's what the shoes above are for me.
Reminders.
For when I need a beat.
Got these baby dolls in a Nashville Goodwill.
Paid $4.00 for them.
The moment they met my eyes, I could hear my name being called out of a megaphone.
And, as for talking real...
- My nose is raw and red and a wet-like kinda crusty.
- My head is swimmy.
- Water rains out of my nose.
- I am sneezing a minium of 10 times an hour.
- My children have decided to jump on beds.
- They're talking back too.
- My clean, unfolded laundry pile is about to become an art piece on our kitchen couch.
- I cut my nails off and haven't painted them in 2 weeks.
I mean I am all about some real.
And, I'm all about these shoes getting quick-like on my feet.
Cause this mama is in need of a pep rally.
Oh, drum major? Where are you??
.mac