Aca-Awesome

A few weeks ago we had one of our super favorite date nights. We ate dinner at Ricos (shocker), rented a Red Box, and ate cake [in bed]. It was glorious. I was in charge of the Red Box, so I selflessly picked "Pitch Perfect". Because it was about baseball and C would love it.

Um. Turns out, notsomuch MLB (oopsiedaisies) but aca-awesome! An entire movie about acapella super nerds taking the pitch pipe by storm with Fat Amy, I mean, Patricia prancing around in all her fabulous sassiness.

Love.

Chris kept mumbling something about it being, aca-awful but belly laughed right along with me. Don't lie ChrisDavis.  You laughed. Especially when Fat Amy said she was horizontal running.

Totally reignited my love for all things acapella. So much that I sucked Super Coop into my YouTube searches for sing offs. He's so stinking cute and impressionable, he dove right in with me.

Ok so fast forward. It's Friday night and this mama is on board a flight to Las Vegas, surrounded by a group of ridiculous geeksters hitting the city for some sort of ill Hangover III attempt. One of them smells like a Krystal burger. They are so loud and aca-nnoying that I have to keep turning around and giving them the Mom Glare. Every 3-4 minutes one of them hollers out something that sounds like "SILAS". What on Gods green earth does that mean and why hasn't the plain clothed Air Marshall kicked them in the ball sacks yet?

Then it happened.

They broke out into the 12 Days of Christmas. On January 11th no less. Acapella style. For serious.

I quietly put my Mom Glare back in my Vera Bradley tote and my tolerance for their potty mouths and foul smelling cheeseburger cologne increased ten fold.

I have to tell you, getting mad and pitching my hissyfit has prove to be one of the most therapeutic and beautiful things that's ever happened to me. It's made me seek Him though I wanted to scream and shout. To draw near to Him when I wanted to run away. To thank Him when I wanted to beg and plead with Him.

 I realized that we have to not only run the race with endurance [even when we want to whine and kick over small store displays], but we also have to run the race with joy. No matter the circumstances.

Vegas better watch out, this Sugar Britches is about to drink boatloads of Frozen Hot Chocolate, shop every single floor of H&M five times over, and soak up all the good God has given us.

Thank you all for loving us, in spite of us, and for encouraging us every step of the way.

If you need me, I'll be at the slot machines. Or maybe on the gondola.

Ok who'm I kidding? I'll be at the Gap.