Now I've Gone & Said "Ifs, Ands, or Buts." Who Am I?

We took our 4-year-old daughter to watch our city's local fireworks Monday night. It was her first time to see fireworks and I was almost as excited as she was about sharing such a special moment. I loved fireworks as a child; heck, I still do.

So we arrive at our viewing point, the local community college. We find a spot on the concrete stairs. We'd have preferred the grass but earlier it'd rained just enough. Another family with a little boy was seated a few steps above, and he and Shannon struck up a conversation almost immediately. Within minutes they bonded over their overprotective parents, both of whom kept telling them to stop swinging on the railing. This kept her entertained since we'd arrived about 20 minutes early, which was all well and good. Until I told her she needed to come sit with us since the fireworks were about to start.

To which she replied with an emphatic stomp and a stubborn, "No, Mom. I wanna sit with my friend."

Dumb Blondes, Turning 30, & Why I Hate Thomas Wolfe

Who says you can't go back?

Thanks to Netflix Instant Queue, my daughter is obsessed with She-Ra.  You know... He-Man's sister. I have to throw in that little descriptive or else most people forget who she is, poor gal.  And when I say "obsessed", I mean obsessed.  We watch her every morning, and we'll be throwing a She-Ra birthday party later this summer, complete with a Princess of Power cake and all.

Additionally, I finished Sweet Valley Confidential: 10 Years Later this week. The saga of Elizabeth & Jessica Wakefield and the entire Sweet Valley gang continues.  I got my first Sweet Valley Kids book in second grade as a Valentine's present from my mom. From then on I was hooked, and pretty sure I read everything published about the twins straight through their college years. Without giving too much away, the twins are still blond and perfect, their parents still belong to the Sweet Valley country club, and Lila Fowler is still a rich bitch.

What a wonderful return to my childhood... or not so much. Because I honestly can't tell you which was worse.