What Happens at Auntie's...

My nieces are having a sleepover at Auntie's . Our motto is "What happens at Auntie's, stays at Auntie's". This is to protect me them from their mother. Sissy gets a wee bit cranky when she finds out they had oreo cakesters for lunch and root beer floats for dinner.

Of course they had a real lunch, I'll tell her. We had stromboli for lunch and spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.

I just don't make them eat those first. Because sometimes dessert needs to come first. As Erma Bombeck once said, "Seize the moment. Think of all those women on the 'Titanic' who waved off the dessert cart."

At Auntie's, we are not going down on a sinking ship eating asparagus.
The girls want to craft when they come to my house. Gee, I wonder why?
I found a cute project to do with them while browsing through etsy this morning. We had to pick out some floral material and went to Gramma for that. She's the queen of material.

So we cut out fabric, sewed, snacked, took breaks, sewed some more, visited the Man out in the workshop, snacked some more, dragged the Man up into the attic because it's kind of cool up there, got our hair curled by cousin K., had a lollipop or two, and then said "Auntie, isn't our pillow finished yet?'



Auntie took several deep breaths and told them to get their little behinds back in the sewing room and FINISH THEIR OWN PILLOWS.

Just kidding. But I did say they had to help finish the pillows by stuffing them.
Aren't they cute? The pillows, I mean. They're houses with windows on the top, a door and flowers along the bottom. Each girl has her name embroidered on the front door and "from Auntie" stitched along the bottom. They made me put that on there.

Honest, sissy.

After that, we had to help K. get ready for a sweet 16 party she's going to tonight. She needed lots of help, like choosing between diamond or pearl earrings and tan pants or a tan skirt. It's a good thing we helped her. Heaven only knows what she'd have looked like without us.We had a great day and a tasty supper. We laughed some, and we played some, and we jumped some.

Auntie's house is fun.
But don't ask K. She doesn't live at Auntie's house. She lives at Mom's house. That house isn't so much fun.

Right, K.?