Now, she's a big seven year old who got her ears pierced for her birthday, and rather bravely I might add.
Gnome had to work yesterday so I got to spend Hoolie's daytime hours with her, except for a brief spell when she took off with her other grandma to go birthday shopping. After dinner, Gnome had us over for delicious MINI-cupcakes. (I stress that they were MINI so no one will think I'm a glutton for devouring four of them.)
Of course there was the mandatory opening of the presents!
And the obligatory photo ops with relatives:
Hoolie with mommy, Gnome
And with Uncle Neo
And her beloved Grandpa.
Pay attention now, because I'm going to reveal how little Hoolie got her name, seven years ago. This will cause me to reveal her actual first name, which I don't usually do, but since it's important to the story, and since I don't have any creepy people reading this blog yet, I will break with tradition.
When Gnome had her baby girl, seven years ago, Computer Geek called me to tell me the good news. I asked what the new baby's name was and Computer Geek replied, "It's Juliah, with an 'h.' "
Silly me says, "Hulia?"
Yeah, I know.
CG instructs me that no, the "h" is at the end of her name. Nevertheless, after that the name stuck and I always called her my little Hulia, and now shortened to Hoolie.
My son Weston was taught a lesson last night, a lesson he should have learned a few weeks ago. Attending the party was Gnome's friend...hmm...what shall I call her...I know--Blue Belt Babe!
A few weeks ago, we had a lunch at the park. Gnome and her friend Blue Belt Babe were there, along with some other mutual friends.
You may remember that Weston used to take martial arts classes. He and Blue Belt Babe started at the same time, both as lowly white belts. In the intervening months, Weston slowly progressed to a yellow belt with a green stripe, while BBB rapidly progressed to--you guessed it!--blue belt status.
At this luncheon get-together at the park, Weston proceeds to insult Blue Belt Babe by calling her "flabby."
Now any boys reading this may want to be forewarned. You never tell a woman she is flabby, but especially
not when she is a higher martial arts rank than you are. It's like asking for an early death.
The beginning stage of Weston getting his behind kicked. The ice cream may get sacrificed.
"I will never call a woman flabby, I will never call a woman flabby, I will never..."
Lesson learned, right?
Nope. He's eleven.
Last night at the party he proceeded to take on Blue Belt Babe once again, this time in arm-wrestling.
It got ugly right away...maybe it's because he was wearing that unlucky green outfit?
Truly she is fearsome to behold.
Happy, happy birthday my little Hulia.