We are officially All Of The Hours into cheer season. Alexis continues to be all aboard the crazy train.
Which is to say, she still loves it with all of her heart and soul.
BLURGH.
Go ahead. Try and tell me how I could just not let her do it. I'll quickly provide you with many examples of bitter and angry 30-something year old women who were once not allowed to do something they really wanted to do. There are some battles not worth fighting, y'all. Alexis and cheerleading is at the top of that list.
Besides, it makes her happy. What makes her happy makes me happy and blah, blah, BLAH.
In the interest of doing all things cheerleading, this past weekend Alexis had an event she needed to be at. It involved getting all dolled up in her cheer gear and performing a few little things, so she was excited. VERY excited.
As we were walking up to the event, I heard the words no sane woman wants to hear. EVER. "Do you want glitter in your hair?"
The question was directed at Alexis. In my head, I screamed "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" and tackled the kid in order to protect her from the evil, evil glitter. In reality, I closed my eyes, spun on my heels, and walked away. Good thing Alexis was already where she needed to be!
As I walked away, the glitterification happened. Approximately every drop of glitter ever was dumped on her head and HOOBOY DID SHE THINK IT WAS GREAT. I could hear her smiling from a mile away. Sparkles! Shiny! HOORAY!
As the day went on, the glitter decided to shift. Most of it sort of fell off of her hair and landed squarely on her scalp. Ever tried to pry glitter off of a little girl's scalp? It's about as fun as trying to scrape permanent marker off of your face. I suggest using a chisel.
The rest of the glitter sort of fell ... everywhere. All over my car. All over me. All over the entire universe.
You guys, I think Kesha exploded. It's beyond hope.
The glitterification happened last Saturday. It has been a whole bunch of days since then, which should mean the party is over. Spoiler alert! THE PARTY IS NOT OVER.
There is still glitter embedded in the kid's scalp. There is still glitter all over the inside of my car. And, most notably, as I sat around a conference room table having a very grown-up conversation today, I pried a little piece of glitter off of my eyelid. It was the most professional moment of my life, obviously. I tried to explain that I really hadn't been rolling around in glitter and that my kid had been, but the defense fell on deaf ears.
I should have just blamed Kesha.