why my nails are never polished

Tomorrow is Terzo's First Communion.

I realized two days ago that I had nothing to wear that was not thrift-store black pants (my usual church attire). My one fancy outfit I wore last week at Easter.

Off to the (gah!) stores I went. I managed to piece together two outfits, because Primo is being confirmed next week, then realized I did not have suitable shoes. I managed to find two pairs of fancy-ish shoes at a reasonable price. I dragged myself home after my ordeal.

Then it dawned on me that the shoes were open-toed. More fashion-related frustration.

I just managed to slap some polish on them, and I got the inevitable cry: "Lambs!"

Sigh.

Yes, it's a crappy job, but at least it's a little color.

Double sigh.

Does any fresh pedicure, especially a crappy one, stand a chance in these bad boys?

I can't complain, really, because it was most thoughtful of Holly to go a few days early and not give birth while we had a houseful of people celebrating a first communion. Though it would have made for a memorable party, and possibly scarred some small children for life.

Even better, one is a ewe lamb! She's the whiter, redder one in back. The orange one in front is, of course, a ram lamb. His color means he must have spent a bit of time in the birth canal. Luckily, he seems to be OK. We really don't know what happened. All three boys were on the back patio playing basketball less than 100 yards from her the entire time, and they didn't notice a thing.

Best yet: she has thoroughly accepted both of them, unlike last year. She certainly took her second chance seriously.