Disco Seashells

I’ve always had a hard time saying the word, ‘seashell’.  I tend to say ‘sheshell’ before rapidly correcting myself. If the person I’m speaking to chuckles, this thought immediately runs through my head:

Anyway, seashells have been piling up around here for the past few years and I’ve been at a loss about how to handle their business.  I mean, I’m not exactly a fan of seashell crafts and bathroom bowls.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those things.  It’s just a personality quirk of mine.  I also have a hard time controlling myself around decorative soap when I’m a guest in someone else’s home.  The sight of stamped soap balls  all nestled in a glass dish make me want to immediately soil my hands so I can furiously scrub them with the fancy soap balls.

Back to the sheshells.  (I totally just accidentally misspelled that word and I’m not correcting it to prove my point.)  I blame that song, ‘Disco Inferno’ for my irresponsibility and lack of remorse when it comes to glitter.  Seriously.  You give me some Mod Podge and flocking glitter and I’ll make it look like Elton John moved in.  All over the place.

So putting glitter on seashells should be no surprise to anyone; however, I’ll deny that I had anything to do with glitter being all over my kid’s homework.  Like I said.  Irresponsible.  You know that look people get when they come face to face with a resident of crazy town?  That’s how my daughter looked at me when I proudly showed her my day’s work.  Like side-eyeing Chloe.

Her look became even more concerned when I started laughing so hard that tears were coming out. I totally amuse myself.  Like when I slightly edited this Chloe pic to make her look less concerned and more disgusted.  I laughed so hard that the cat went skidding out of the room.

The disgusted look came when I said, “Hey man.  Put your ear up to this shell.  You don’t hear the ocean.  You hear disco music.”

Oh c’mon.  That was funny.