Are you there God? It's me Robyn!

I realized this past weekend the Pastor gets countless mentions on this blog, yet have I EVER been worked into one of his sermons? Nooooooooo! You would think something I do would be sermon-worthy. I guess he's so focused on providing a message about the Jesus-stuff that he loses sight of all the amusing anecdotes about Robyn.

Some of things the Pastor likes about me are: I smell good, constantly have on lip gloss, shave things, wax things, wear cute clothes, flat-iron my hair, paint my nails, blah blah blah blah blah. I am a LADY. 100% girly-girl. Possible reasons for this?
1. God just made me this way.
2. When you are comprised of sugar and spice and all things nice, you have the genetic coding and it just happens.
3. There's a secret female handbook that's given to you when you start menstruating (or as my Grandmother called it, men-straitin'!) and it gives you step-by-step instructions in the art of female persuasion. The book is cleverly disguised as "Are you there God? It's me Margaret." by Judy Blume.
4. I can't think of any other reasons.

The truth is, the only reason I am the way that I am is because of my parents. They bought me cute clothes from Streets Department Store, made me brush my hair and my teeth and bathe. There is no possible way I would have been allowed to burp or make any audible bodily noise without a sense of horror, shock, embarrassment and an "excuse me". I would have not been allowed to laugh out-loud at it. I was also made to sit in such a way that the whole world could not see my hoo-ha, chew with my mouth shut and you better believe I was taught how to eat in a restaurant. Apparently, you are not just born with a desire to sit with your bottom (instead of your knees) in the chair.

I have a point here. Really. The Pastor loves these qualities in me, but will allow the girls to get up, throw on any clothes regardless of match-ability and go to school without combing their hair. He says "I don't care what they wear" and "I don't care how their hair looks" and is just all laid-back about the whole thing. But really he DOES care, doesn't he? He cares about it in me. He'd care if I got up and just put on whatever and didn't brush my hair or while in the shower rub the soap on all the places it needs to be rubbed. He likes the fact that he is able to take me to a restaurant and have a pleasant dining experience with me because I use a napkin and don't get food all over myself. He likes the fact that I am not disgusting about burping, farting (I even hate the word) and picking my nose. He likes that I am quiet, sweet and docile and don't stomp through the house like an elephant.

I'm just trying to help him see that the daughters he is raising, if they continue down this path, will grow up to be women with characteristics he himself would find unattractive in a female. Just doing my part to make the world a prettier place, one that smells of Britney Spears "Curious" and is draped in the color pink.

switching gears, the gifted and talented one is getting to sing in "Honors Choir" tonight. I'm not sure about the "honors" part. I asked him what does it take to get in??? to which he replied anyone who tried out made it. Oh, I see. This morning when we left for school, he asked me "Mom, is that what you are going to wear to my program?" (Jeans and teacher's pet t-shirt.) Nope, I'll fix myself up! He then asked me if I would go get a manicure, pedicure and facial today. This kid IS a genius!

More blog fodder from the Pastor. He was asking me last night if I wanted to go to some conference with him. He had the tickets in his hand, but had thrown the seminar brochure in the garbage. He goes to retrieve the nice printed invitation out of the trash and brings it over to me. In the middle of the nice cardstock paper? His teeth marks. He had bit the invitation. I'm not sure 1. why he did this or 2. why I thought it was so funny and laughed about it for several minutes. He said it has just looked so pristine, and when you see something like that don't you just want to bite it? Uhhhh, no, not really.

He's assured me he will not leave his bite-mark on me.