It’s the last week of summer before I go back to school for the last time as a college kid. I’ve refilled my purple kidney bean-shaped Scotch tape dispenser (which really needed to happen, since Despicable Me minion tape is super fun but not very discreet when you don’t want someone to notice you accidentally broke stuff). I’ve purchased new notebooks, paper clips, and those clippy-things you use when paper clips aren’t big enough. What are those called, anyway?
Update: A friend told me they’re called “binder clips,” and a quick Google search for “what do you call the big paper clips” agreed. I guess that makes sense. My sisters and I used them as Barbie purses when we were younger. But binder clips it is!
I’ve washed my trusty JanSport, which has been with me since the first day of high school and has faithfully carried all of my textbooks, crochet projects (yeah, I’m that girl…), and Little Debbie snack cakes. And given me back problems.
I’ve also purchased my campus parking permit and all my textbooks, although I’m still holding out on the Shakespeare anthology two-pack. The Bard knew his stuff, but not enough for me to pay a hundred and fifty bucks for interpretations of his creative genius. Still bargain-hunting that one.
I returned from my family’s last summer hoorah this past weekend. I spent a week hanging out in the middle of the ocean and visiting cool Caribbean places. I also spent the week with other people cleaning my stateroom twice a day (dear, dear souls), bringing me extra cheese bread during dinner, and building animals out of my towels. Cruises rock.
But now I’m home and I just can’t justify talking my youngest sister into making my bed for me. Although she was so inspired by the on-board shows from the cruise that she’s decided to produce her own. Earlier today she was looking for a sash she could hang and twirl from. This promises to be quality entertainment. Although I’m hiding my scarves…
In the midst of all this, we’re waging a war on fruit flies. We don’t even know where they’re coming from because our produce isn’t mushy. So this morning, one of the sisters decides to take action and rig this booby trap involving cherries, a mason jar, a paper cone, and some unidentifiable liquid. But the fruit flies are smarter than the internet leads you to believe, and my sister has caught a whopping two-and-a-half flies all day.
But then my other sister came home from the store with some face mask made of charcoal and sugar (it’s kind of a sister bonding thing to smear goop on our faces in the name of healthy pores whenever we’re all together). I considered standing near the counter and letting the flies come to me because they supposedly like sugar, but all that led to was a fly in my eye. And revitalized skin.
So while the fruit flies continued to be, well, fruitful (seriously, they’ve gotta be more prolific than rabbits), there were all kinds of covert operations clapping and slapping and smacking as we tried to rid the kitchen of this problem.
And then there were quotes like these:
*smack!* “Look at my trophies!”
“I keep thinking I have cataracts, but it’s just fruit flies.”
“Woap. One just went up my nose.”
And during all of this, the littlest sister hosted her performance, telling us it was called “Love Never Comes.” One of my other sisters smiled, leaned over, and patted my knee when the littlest sister announced this. Because she’s kind like that.
So basically, this final week before school promises to be interesting and go by way too quickly. And I have a strong feeling this upcoming semester will be the same way. But you know what? I’m excited. Life is random and hilarious and annoying and confusing and surprising and…a gift. A beautiful, beautiful gift. And I don’t want to miss a single minute of it.
I’m off to go contemplate why in the world the latest spam in my inbox thinks I’m a mommy blogger. Like, please. I had fake fish to raise and they managed to grow mold. I’ll stick to blogging about college life, facials, and how not to catch fruit flies.
P.S. In case you can’t tell, my sisters rock. I’m kind of obsessed with them.