I'm almost an aunt!

Here we are at Friday again. Could be worse, right?

For the past few weeks, whenever I look down, the fly of my pants is down. We're talking all the way. Now, for the life of me, I can't figure out if I'm not remembering to zip it up, a task that I'd assumed I've pretty much mastered in the past 25 years- OR- If every single pair of pants that I own has a faulty zipper that insists on slipping down.

It's one of those "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" type questions that not even Siri can answer.

Damn it, Siri.

Last week Matt thought it would be really funny to be like "Siri, I just ran over someone with my car, what do I do?"

To which Siri, in her infinite wisdom, was like, "Sara, I'm calculating your location now." Because apparently she can't tell the difference between our voices. Stupid Siri. Anyway, THAT was one of the most singularly stressful moments of my life since we were SITTING ON THE COUCH in our home. Luckily, the cops never showed up and surrounded the place or anything. Then again, maybe Siri was just bluffing. What if I really HAD run over someone?

Actually, I probably wouldn't think to consult Siri in that scenario.


I wish Siri would remind me to zip up my fly.


Enough about Siri, though.


TOMORROW IS MY SISTER'S BABY SHOWER.

She's measuring 'ready to pop any time' according to the doctors even though she's technically supposed to have five weeks left. So that's cool, maybe this little nug will make an appearance sooner than later.

Last night I went over to my parents' house to help my mother prepare/decorate for Saturday and she reveals to me that she's "Not actually convinced there aren't two babies in there."

I mean, the woman has had four babies, plus mama knows best, right?

The results remain to be seen.

As for me, I'm just psyched for the free mani/pedis, copious amounts of wine, and chocolate fountain.

Oh, and the baby too, of course.

Happy Weekending!