therefore

Stolen from The Twitter: why would I need a nemesis, I am a writer and therefore my own brain attacks itself on a daily basis

A conversation with a 5-year-old

Me: Are we still best friends?

Little L: Yep.

Me: How long have we been best friends?

L: Forever.

Me: How long are we going to be best friends?

L: 10 years.

My question: What happens after 10 years?

Part 2 - 1,000 miles

I can see the Sprint Center, but I can't get to it.

Over the past week, I logged almost 1,000 miles behind the wheel of a car.

First off, what can I say about Kansas City? It was the Chief's best shows that I've seen yet.

First off, I have to say that every time I venture to this corner of the state, I'm almost always carted around in the passenger seat of a car. Friends drive me, a boss drove me, a romantic interest that fired me took me once.

It occured to me while driving that I've never actually driven in Kansas City. It turns out that I really suck at it.

I missed the exit to the Sprint Center three times in a row. It's a huge shiny building downtown...how is it possible for me to pass it so many times?

I had to do parking garages. I hate parking garages.

I curb checked more than a few times, always on the right side of the car.

Where'd that curb come from?

I severely misjudged the amount of time it would take for me to get to a parking space for the first concert. We walked in around 8:15 p.m., which is rare for this nerd. I'm never that late to Church! (He started promptly at 8:30 p.m., right after I grabbed a drink and gave up on the line for the women's restrooms.)

The two shows were the best Eric Church shows I've seen yet. He belted out Sweet Caroline, a song I've sung in so many bars throughout college and after that I lost count. (So good! So good! So good!)

Someone gave him a Kansas City Chiefs jersey, which Eric Church wore and then the crowd started to chant. Because I am a Denver Broncos person, the Chiefs chant was completely lost on me, but it was certain that Kansas City loved them some Eric Church.

Wow, Kansas City.

That was fun as hell.

We heard Creepin' both nights. We heard break up songs, make up songs, get drunk and get high and go to hell songs, go to a bar and pick up a girl and then get drunk and get high songs, and only one love song, which is all right with me for this point in my life.

It was a party up in the Sprint Center and I loved every second of it.

Who would have thought that little ol' Kansas City loved to party so much?

In other news, music helps.

Music heals.

I have so many questions, Kansas City.

Part 1 - I bought mice at Ikea.

The drama started around Christmas time.

One of my nieces, little K, was pretty sure that I was going to get her a mouse for Christmas. Specifically, the little curly-haired kid wanted a plastic mouse.

When I was in Wichita in December, I asked a group of people where I might find a toy mouse for little K. They seemed stumped. I checked farm and ranch stores, and I did not see one single toy mouse for sale.

Little K got a unicorn dress for Christmas.

Every time I've seen her since then, she asks me if I have a mouse for her. I don't know why, but she thinks that the toy mouse I supposedly bought her is in my purse.

Our conversations go something like this:

Me: "I love you. Give me a hug."

K: "You have my mousy in your purse?"

Me: "No, but I still love you and I still want a K hug."

K: "Let me see your purse. I want my mousy."

I went to Kansas City over the weekend for a couple of little concerts. Part of the Kansas City experience is going to Ikea, which is fantastic. When my Mom and I were walking around, she stopped dead in her tracks and called me over to her.

There was a little cardboard display in an aisle. There were tiny toy mice in it.

I bought four of them.

The first time we went, I saw that there were bigger mice for sale, too. I debated buying them, but I decided four little mice for three little girls was more than enough.

But then I felt really bad. This poor kid loves her a good mouse and here I am, in this city of a whole lot of people, and I was too cheap to buy her the big mice. (Or rats, whatever they were.)

Later that day, I drove back to Ikea, which is 10 miles outside of the middle of nowhere, and I marched my ass into it and bought my little niece two big mice.

It snowed on the way back, and I was slightly nervous about the drive. (It was fine and we had no problems.) As I told my Mom, if we get stuck or slide off the road, we'll have the company of six mice to keep us warm in the car.

tl;dr: I bought mice at Ikea.

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Update: I gave the mice to the kids last night. Little K was psyched. The first thing she did when I walked in the door was inspect my coat for her mice. I tricked her! The mice were in my purse instead of my coat.

We played hard and the mice ended up on my head while three little girls laughed at me.

#auntlife

Not K, but her little sister, C.