I’m living with my sister and her family right now. It provides for interesting evenings with child screams, her husbands’ video games, and mustardy chicken dishes for dinner. We haven’t gone out much or driven to Boise as often as I’d been hoping to when I first came to Nampa. We have, however, dressed ourselves up and driven away from the house on a Friday night or two, anxious for the excitement that only a girls’ night out could bring. Each time we’ve done this, we’ve ended up at Target. Target has what any thirty-year-old woman needs: clothes, make-up, entertainment, home décor, and hair products. But to go to Target on a Friday or a Saturday night is a little strange. It makes me feel so domesticated. I’m still single. I don’t have any kids. I should be able to do things more exciting than a quick trip to Target. But such is not the way of the Bunn-Petterson clan. Eh. I might as well blame Nampa. It’s Nampa’s fault.
Until I have a more exciting Friday night,
This is Rece.