Hi, I'm looking for my daughter.

I took Lucy with me to an open house for some of my favorite culinary gigs: Pampered Chef, Tupperware, and Tastefully Simple. There were others, but they didn't have samples, and if I couldn't cook with it, store food in it, nor season with it, I wasn't buying it. Some people shop for shoes. Some people shop for jewelry. I stick with one theme for the love of shopping: food.

The friend's house I was going to is a new pal from this volleyball league I snuck into. By sneak, I mean, I really suck. When I tell people that, they give me a look of surprised pity. I guess all 6-footers should be great athletes. But just like in college, I got picked because I'm tall, not because I'm good. I've spent the last two volleyball seasons getting my ass handed to me by just about every team. Wait. No. Correction. Yeah, that's right, every team. I've actually threatened the opposing teams server that if she served me again, I'd be forced to blind her with my stretch marks. Works every time. Anyways, so I'm hoping I can save some kind of relationship with these people with my overwhelming personality. Because clearly, my SKILLZ aren't doing it.

I tried to prep Lucy, use your manners, be nice, yes, I'm sure they'll have cookies or something like it. But as soon as we walked into the house, I lost my daughter. I must have been chatting up the Tupperware lady and missed the Linda-Blair-head-spin transformation, but she lost her mind y'all. She was RUNNING through this poor woman's house. Demanding more brownies. I'd tell her to sit down, she'd get up. She was stupid and sassy when a nice woman tried to distract her through dialogue. And I think at some point, while trying to ignore her, I think I saw that brat do a cartwheel IN their living room! What the hell!?

"Who's the jackass who brought their bratty kid?" one of the voices in my head shouted.

I thought she'd be okay at a girly party like that. But as my mother, in her infinite and apparently prophetic wisdom used to say to me, "Well, that's what you get for thinking."

Thankfully she didn't break anything. Still, I was embarassed. Maybe I should have bought more stuff.

We're in some kind of new phase. And by "we", I mean, they are. However, my reactionary parenting skillz need to go up a notch - thus a new phase for all of us.

I left in shock and pretty embarassed. I tore into her as soon as we got in their driveway, and then I left her in their bushes. I hope that was okay.

That's how I roll.