It seemed like your everyday evening:
On the way home from kickboxing, I finally got the chance to chat with Kevin from 5Ks and Cabernets for the first time ever.
Some of you know that I’m good at playing rounds of phone tag, and it’s a great feeling to finally connect with another blogger in real life. I encourage some of you to do the same!
Anyway, I was in a good mood after getting off the phone. When I walked into the house, nothing looked out of the ordinary. My dad was reading in a big chair, and M was working on an amazing 3-D art project with a glue gun.
After giving them kisses, I walked to my bedroom. There it was: my hydrating flower, out of its package, on my comforter.
“M!” I yelled out.
“Come here, please.”
She walked into my bedroom. “Did you open a box that was for me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I told Grandpa that I open all of your boxes, and he said it was okay.”
“Honey, sometimes I let you open my packages — if I’m here, and if I give you permission–”
(Hello Dad, who is the adult in this relationship?)
Then M wanted to know what the special, purple plastic thing was. “A massager” I said.
“So, why can’t I open a massager?” she said. “What’s wrong with that?”
When will my Dad learn not to let his granddaughter open packages that are addressed to ME?
It’s not like this this is the first time he let her open one of my unlabeled brown boxes — which also contained, uh, “a massager.”
Speaking of privacy, have you heard that Facebook recently changed its Terms of Service — and your photos, content, and more might belong to THEM?
Dr. Leah and I address the very controversial — and unclear — new Facebook terms of service here.
Are you concerned about what happens to your photos and content on Facebook? We are!
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