Secret Number Twenty-Seven: I think my toes look like french fries.
I'm waiting for the best friends to get over, so I'm cleaning like the nerd that I am. I blame my mother for this need-to-clean that's embedded in my skin; she's the hugest clean freak I know.
Well, today was errands day. I sweated it out in the heat, buying stuff for the wedding shower next Saturday. I felt slightly bad, because I ended up taking a whole shelf of mason jars at Hobby Lobby. I instantly regretted grabbing a basket instead of a cart, because I then had to waddle around the store and make funny, pained faces down every aisle. I'm pretty excited to get started on the decorations, but I still have more to buy.
I ended up relocation Frank again into the house to chill on a plastic McDonald's plate by our living room window, because I couldn't take the stress anymore. I think he likes it.
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