I got the sewing machine out to hem the curtains and so far I have made son a do-rag and cut out a bunch of Sew Desu Ne mew-nicorns and started tracing out the pieces for an upholstery-velvet dragon and the curtains are lying on the floor with the cats sleeping in them, pinned but not hemmed while I go through 15-year-old picture archives looking for my patterns.
(Those were commissioned, BTW, not something I wore myself. I did wear a wolf tail/ears at Halloween to hand out candy though, and explained that I was a werewolf but it was only a quarter moon so this was the best I could do.)
... we had a conversion camper-van that apparently I toured all of the desert Southwest with my parents in until that cross-country trip with my sister. I have pictures of me in a pack-n-play next to the van on a dry lakebed in the Anza-Borrego because I was apparently a great traveler. That all ended before I was old enough to remember any of it, when my sister was born. THANKS SIS π
(There are exceptions. Back in the 60's my folks were stopped at a checkpoint coming into California from Nevada because it was illegal to bring fruit across the border because of a pest problem. My then-baby sister had been horrifically carsick all the way home from Pennsylvania and they rolled down the window, the inspector caught a whiff, blanched, and waved us through. Later my parents realized they had a whole crate of illicit fruit on board that my uncle in Palm Desert had given them...)
@theru Hmm. Danish is a possibility. Would that be an idiom one might use in annoyance (as an "are you kidding me?" sort of exclamation, usually directed at circumstance rather than another person)?
Did not realize (though it makes sense in hindsight): Jersey lets you register to vote at 17, so son is now officially an Unaffiliated Voter as part of getting his non-driving state ID.
(He can't vote until 18, but that will happen next week, well before the next election.)
Update: failed to get into a position to see whether he had cowboy boots on, and if so whether they were work or dress boots (hat was definitely not a work hat).
I grant you, while most of New Jersey's horse situation is racing or English, there *is* a certain amount of western saddle and even rodeo in South Jersey. But not in the DMV.
(I should clarify: the pistol grip was not a full-on faux gun type thing, just a utilitarian-looking angled grip for, I guess, holding your phone in landscape?)