Which was basically a kelly green shrug, a green woolly hat and a scarf with some green in it. I also wore The Dress with black leggings and my furry boots. (Oh how thankful I am to my mother-in-law for bringing me my green hat and furry boots over with her!)
Fifi wore a very unique outfit today, which is unfortunately somewhat covered up by her massive silver coat and her frowny face. She wore Her Dress with a pink owl print button up top with a sparkly fuchsia belt and fuchsia leggings.
This was Fifi mid-"I Just Want To Run Away" this morning. She was in the middle of a massive meltdown over her school fundraiser. Her school sent home brochures for kids to sell cookie dough and pizzas and cheese cakes and beef jerky, that sort of thing. Sounds reasonable, I guess, except that a box of cookie dough making 16 cookies costs $15. I mean, what?! WHY would I spend $15 on 16 cookies when I could make 6 dozen (or so) for the same price? Buy some bags of flour and sugar, a carton of eggs, some butter and a big bag of chocolate chips and hey presto! Similarly, the other items were just as expensive and unreasonable. She has just finished selling candy for Girl Scouts; we are fundraisered out. (Not to mention, I direct sell products as my job. My family gets enough pitched to them as it is.)
So anyway, she was devastated that I said we wouldn't be buying anything from her catalog. She needs to sell 4 boxes of cookie dough to go to an Ice Cream Social at school. I know it's only 4 boxes, but that's $60. For 4 boxes. Of 16 cookies each. Trust me, I feel really badly for her. I think it's rather crap that if a kid doesn't sell 4 boxes they don't get to go to the Social. I want her to go, obviously. But I really don't want to put pressure on anyone to waste their precious money on this total rip-off, nor can I justify wasting mine. The kids who go to the Social also get their names put in a raffle to win a Kindle Fire too. Fifi wants that Kindle Fire. I tried to explain to her that she most likely wouldn't win that anyway, and why not start saving your money to buy your own? But all this was to no avail. She was enraged all morning.
She cried, she screamed, she tried every guilt trip in the book, culminating in "I just want to run away!" As we walked to school, I detailed all of what running away would mean for her. No food, no clothes, no place to sleep, no friends, being bored, being scared, being cold, plus Mummy and Daddy and Lolly and Jaguar would be worried and scared and crying, and we'd be calling the police to find her and driving everywhere looking for her, worrying she had been hit by a car or taken away... I let the list go on and on until we got to school. By that point, she'd decided she only wanted to walk to school by herself, rather than run away.
Before she went through the school doors, I pulled her back into a hug, held her face up towards mine and said, "Do you promise you won't run away while you're at school today?" She sheepishly answered, "I'll try."