Weekend Winks – Auntie Style

An unexpected trip to Iowa made for a whirlwind weekend for this Nashville gal, as among other things my sister and her family were in the middle of a move.

Fun aunts are amazing

Totally hands on during the move.

My bro-in-law saw that Anderson Erickson (the best damn dairy company on the planet) took notice of my Iowa appearance and put the most delish chip dip in the world on sale (I can typically eat a carton and a bag of Lay’s potato chips in one sitting. Don’t judge.).

Dip baby, dip.

Dip baby, dip.

The best thing about traveling to Iowa is seeing my twin niece and nephew, who are obvious geniuses as they have now mastered one steep step.

Step mastered.

Little Einsteins.

While arriving in the wee hours Friday morning, we needed a little pick-me-up when the moving festivities began at 8am.

Moonshine for the move.

Who needs mimosas when you have moonshine?

All of us but one selected suitable moving shoes.

Appropriate moving heels. Cinderella style

Anything more appropriate than Cinderella glass heels on moving day?

While some of us felt like Prince B mid-move, we were able to keep our emotions in check.

Not excited.

My condolences on the changing of your diaper.

I was able to muster the energy it took to stand and point as the movers brought furniture in all afternoon.

Traffic cop.

Traffic cop.

During my breaks, I felt it necessary to ride horses with Princess B.

Ridin' ponies.

She’s wondering what the hell I’m doing on her brother’s pony.

Lunch was accompanied by whiskey and ibuprofen, keeping spirits lifted.

Lunch break.

I should pack this in my lunch every day.

Because whiskey is needed in Diet Coke when you get to do fun moving chores like dismantle a couch to fit through a doorway.

Fun times.

Of course, I stood and ordered rather than get my hands dirty.

After feeling like my index fingers were about to fall off, the move was complete and I couldn’t decide which one of the moving men I liked better.

Watching is exhausting.

Professional, polite, fun and hard-working – call this company if you find yourself in the depths of moving hell.

No one was more exhausted after the day’s activities than my dogphew, Gunner who lounged under his Gigi’s feet all evening.

Dogphew

Barking is hard work.

Another perk about Iowa is getting to see my college bestie, Whitney Lover (as she has the oldest and most worn Whitney Houston t-shirt that once was white but now appears to be a stained yellow) when she has time to slide me into her hectic schedule filled with three kids’ activies.

Everyone knows of her love for WL and she was gifted with a matching onesie for her daughter.

Much to her daughter’s dismay, she received a matching Whitney Houston onesie.

Besties

We know, we know. Best photo ever.

And I got to see her little Lady E who has the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

Lady E.

Lady E with Auntie CBXB.

While Whitney Lover and I were at the bar, we noticed that a 70-year-old was trying to remain hip and cool (or copying my style completely) as she had the exact same hue of pink under her grayish white hair.Β  Please refrain from telling Whitney Lover how amazing her hairstyle was that day – we heard about it every where we stopped.

Pink Lady.

WL and I agreed that it’d be best if I just ended it all now.

In between meeting WL’s neighbors and kids, we headed to her house after a few cocktails. I had arrived late, so the entire neighborhood was about 14 drinks ahead of yours truly which made getting out of a seat belt extremely difficult for one Neighbor.

How many clicks to get out of a seat belt?

How many clicks does it take to get out of a safety harness?

Texting

WL wouldn’t know as she was busy texting.

And with not one ounce of ease and after 12 minutes, we were able to slide Neighbor out of the seat belt and secure her feet firmly to the ground.

Mission accomplished

Mission accomplished.

The next morning it was time to say goodbye to my fave bebes, so I read to Prince B one last time as he sat on his throne.

Stories

His Royal Highness loves his caterpillar book.

Princess B thought she’d give brushing my hair a whirl (and thankfully left no snarls).

Hair brushing

Brushing at its best.

On the way back to Nashville, we stopped at a gas station where my thoughts of inspiring hair color for seniors around the Midwest were solidified, as I saw an 85-year-old with pink in her pixie cut.

Kill. Me. Now.

Kill. Me. Now.

Who knew I was such a trendsetter for the AARP crowd?

Lucky me.

CBXB

CBXB!