I have a nickname for my dtr Rosie: Dub-cee-dub.
As in WCW.
As in "When Can We...?"
See, from the time she still sported her top-knot, she's always been one to ask, "When can we....___________?" (fill in the blank).
When can we go to the park, when can we go bowling, when can we go to the creek, when can we go to the beach, the movies, the museum, a friend's house, etc, etc. She is now and has always been wanting to go-go-go and do-do-do.
Take this summer, for instance. From the time school let out till end of July, I will have seen her only two weeks out of seven. She had one glorious week at home before going on a road trip with her bff to her Grandma's lakehouse in NC, where they have been dock-jumping, swimming, shopping, tanning, knee-boarding, water-skiing, and tubing. Less than a week after she gets back (and you can throw in soccer clinic during that week home), she will be jetting off to Australia of all places on a three week whirlwind tour with People to People. There she will be snorkeling, hiking, surfing, shopping, zip-lining, and flirting, no doubt, with Ozzy hotties while I sit home and wring my hands in distress and maternal angst.
She doesn't have too much of the rest of the summer planned out yet, save a week of family vacation and a day of working in a cameo in my sister's show that will be filmed at our house (and meeting a few celebrities while she's at it), but give her time.
I'm sure she'll come up with something.
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