I think I do like the idea of taking every Thursday (as opposed to once a month) and doing something good. The problem is, with only one cup of coffee in me and four kids plus a tagalong waiting for me to load them in the car, well, my brain hasn't woken up yet.
Yesterday we did book Chloe's appointment for Locks of Love, but that is eight days away, and I wanted PT to also be about doing small things to make the world a better place. It doesn't always have to be donating jewelry or ten+ inches of your hair. So...something small for Thursday. I just popped into the kitchen and Maddie gave me my task for today. While at the grocery store today, I am to pick up an extra bag of dog food and drop it by our local no-kill shelter. She's volunteered there before, and she just informed me that they are always needing dog food. Okay! Done! What are you going to do today? AND, just to make it interesting, I haven't had a give away in a looong time. So, out of the commenters who mention they're doing something small today, I have a $10 Amazon gift card to give away. I'll have the girls pick a number and we'll give it away tomorrow morning. Hey, who couldn't use $10??
On another note. My best friend just informed me that she spent an excruciating two hours last weekend at a work-related barbecue hosted by her husband's co-worker and his wife. His wife was one of those women who relates best to men, sexualizes everything, and has perfected the whispery helpless voice when talking to men. You know the type? The type who doesn't have much to say to you, but you have to practically peel her off your husband's leg? Yeah. I've always known women like this, and one time, when I was forced to live across the street from a soft whispery type, my girlfriends and I decided to try an experiment.
Question: Do all men secretly like it when we talk like helpless, brain-cell damaged bimbos (think Marilyn singing Happy Birthday to JFK)?
Experiment: Talk in lilting, breathless, whispery bimbo voice to husband and gauge his response. Do this over phone so he cannot see convulsive laughter from other end.
Results: I called my husband at work, and in a barely discernible Marilyn Monroe-esque voice I asked, "Bobby? Sweetie? Can I ask you a favor?" I thought I would choke on my tongue, I sounded so ridiculous, I was certain he'd ask me if I were drunk. But. BUT. His voice deepened, he sounded concerned and willing to jump in front of a train as he answered, "Yes! Of course, baby. What do you need?" I could almost hear his shoulders pull back, his chest puffing out. Sickening. My husband, by the way, was raised by a feminist, and also calls himself one. I did this later that day, at home, and it was the same response.
If you don't believe me, TRY THIS AT HOME. You will be dumbfounded at the results. Do not harm your husband (or male co-worker or whomever) after attempting this, as it is not his fault that the Neanderthal wiring is still alive and well in his brain. He cannot help himself.
Go, be breathless and airy and see for yourself how effective this is. It is disturbing. And also? Go pay it forward today.