Holding court

We bought my sister Pati a refurbished iPod for her 20th birthday last August. And because she uses my Amazon account just because it's easier and that whole she lives with me thing, I recently began to wonder if she had replaced the now trashed iPod with a new touch model. To be clear, I wondered for about a half second while in the process of placing my order for my Nook decal sticker thingy that BFF Mel and I spent hours on Skype discussing. I saw the iPod touch accessory in my cart, raised an eyebrow, and saved it for later while finishing up my current order, all in the same breath. And by the time I took the next one, I had already forgotten to ask Pati when she was going to tell me she had decided to spoil herself for her birthday.

"Pati got herself an iPod touch," The Husband told me today. We were (are) in After Vacation Hell with the unpacking and the cleaning and the signing for the five boxes I had to ship myself from Detroit after barely making it to Detroit from New York at one half pound under the suitcase limit because I had given most of what I scored at BlogHer to the hotel staff before hopping in a car to LaGuardia. Turns out adding a three-year-old, a husband, and my obsessive-compulsive need to over prepare for an airplane apocalypse meant there was no way on God's green earth that my luck was going to stretch for the last leg of the trip.  So I got to unpacking these boxes while The Husband took Buttercup to the bathroom for a potty break. I tried to ignore the fact that I probably paid more for the shipping than the swag was actually worth.

"Oh yeah!" I said, remembering the mystery item in my Amazon cart. "I was going to ask who was using my account to order accessories."

"She had good reason," he said as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Buttercup to do her thing on her little Dora potty seat. "I checked hers out and it just stopped working. You should mess with her when she gets home, though. She got Buttercup a night light because she killed her fish while we were away and she eases her guilty conscious with a fucking iPod?"

I snorted while sifting through boxes and decided to take a peek and see if Buttercup was done. "Yeah, exactly. You'd think it would have been the other way arou..."

I cut myself off as I ran for my phone (because unlike the rest of blogdom, I do not possess a real camera or the skills to operate one) and ran back to take a photo before the moment passed me by.

"What were you saying?" The Husband looked up from the couch as I shushed him only to be given away by the tell-tale camera click.

"Mama?" Buttercup heard it, too.

"Shit, shit, shit..." What if I hadn't moved fast enough to...never mind. I got it.

And The Husband couldn't stop laughing when I showed him this photo of our little princess holding court on her throne.

"You posting that on Facebook?" He asked when he could talk.

"Already done."