I don’t think I’ve admitted mentioned this on MinSoFab before, but it is high time I did.  The Bible says the truth will set us free, right?  So, here goes:

My name is Amy Beth and I am a wellies-lover.

You might know wellies by their American name — rain boots — but I prefer the British version as it helps me feel that I’m not a total country girl.  And, you know, because I like to say British things.

I’m not sure when I decided that it made me cool to use British terms, but somewhere along the way I actually started using “pram” instead of stroller and “ice lollies” instead of popsicles in regular conversation.  And, you know, wellies. 

One day I actually said “I’m going to take the baby out in the pram to buy an ice lollie.   Good thing I’m wearing my wellies!”

I so wish I was kidding but there are several Starlite girls who would happily verify that I did actually say this even though I wasn’t actually wearing my wellies.  Or, you know, the mother of a baby.

Whatev’.  Minor details, ya’ll, minor details.

I never had wellies as a kid, so maybe that’s why I have such an obsession with them.  I currently have four pairs: black with white polka dots; navy with white polka dots; hot pink solid and red solid.  I’ve got my eye on a white pair with yellow and lime citrus fruits on them but I’m waiting to see if the Easter Bunny will drop them off for me when he hops through town in a couple of weeks.

Chocolate, of course, would be acceptable as well.  Or wellies MADE OUT OF CHOCOLATE.  Oh my goodness.  I need to trademark this idea, stat.

Ahem.  I’ve been wanting to find matching umbrellas for my wellies for some time now.  I’ve seen some cute umbrellas but they were pretty expensive and?  Hello?  I have college loans to pay back. 

But then, my sweet interlings*, I went to the jewelry/handbag/everything showroom thing-y with my mom on Saturday.  And the Lord (shined?  shone? shimmied?) His face upon me and said:

“Amy Beth, my daughter whom I love: I have sent manna umbrellas from heaven.  Go ye therefore into all the nations and look cute while you share my Good News.”

There, at booth 472, sat a display of the cutest umbrellas I have ever seen.  And lo, they had ones to match three of my four pairs of wellies. 

Which reminds me: random elderly woman from the showroom who was trying to pick out a umbrella for your granddaughter?  Again, I apologize for shoving you out of the way as I grabbed that polka dot umbrella out of your sweet little hands.  But, really, thank you for giving to me the Lord.

As soon as I had the umbrellas in my possession, I began beseeching the Lord for rain.  This morning, around 3:15 a.m., I woke to the precious sound of a monsoon outside my bedroom window.

And I wept a few grateful tears.  But just a few. 

Interlings*, I must admit to you that I had a very difficult time falling back asleep as I began to deal with a major dilemma: which wellies / umbrella combination do I wear today?  And, even more importantly, do I have matching headbands for all of them?

Finally, I made my decision and went back to sleep.  And, I must say, I think it was a decision I can be proud of:

Of course, this is a camera phone pic so the quality isn’t that great but I think the fabulousness that is my hot pink wellies and polka dot umbrella shine through and hopefully warm your sweet little hearts.

Ministering to the world one pair of wellies at a time.  Amen.

*I am getting a whole lot of questions about what an interling is exactly.  An interling is you, my bloggy friends.  I didn’t want to write “my bloggy friends” each time I wanted to address you on said bloggy, so I created the simpler “interlings.”  Don’t worry, it is definitely a term of endearment.  I think.

I’m holding down the Starlite fort while all my college darlings are living it up on Spring Break this week.  I had been looking forward to the break because I had all kinds of plans to catch up on paperwork, answer the bajillion emails in my inbox, etc. while they were gone.  When they’re here it is pretty rare to go an hour without someone popping in the office as they skip class between classes.  I’m not complaining though — I love any distraction from paperwork, especially if it is one of my girls.

What I didn’t count on was missing them so much!  It is only Monday and I’m already counting down the hours until they get back.  It is far too quiet in this office… no Angela coming in my office saying “And where is my little butterfly?” in her sweet voice.  No Becky rushing in with a story about how she danced like a banshee (her term, not mine) when she found out that The Office would be back on soon.  No Cate interrupting my phone call to tell me about the hot guy she just saw in the parking lot.

Most of them went home to visit their families, but one small group took off for the Land of The Mouse for a few days.  I knew they were planning to leave for Florida yesterday morning at 6 a.m., so I made myself wait until 9 a.m. to call.

“Laura, are you all wearing your seat belts?” 

“You know we are, Amy Beth.”

Then, I called Jennifer.

“You’re not going above the speed limit, right?”

“Yes, of course we are.  Why did you call my cell phone when you know we’re all in the same car and you were just talking to Laura?”

Ooops.  Forgot about that.

Lastly, I called Cate (who was, for the record, in the car in front of them).

“Cate.  I know ya’ll are good girls and that you love Jesus and you’re gonna make good decisions but if ya’ll end up in jail, call me.”

I miss those little punks, all 18 of them.

After Friday night’s Real Date, I woke up early on Saturday morning and headed to my hometown to spend some time with my mom.  Even though I only live 1.5 hours away, I don’t get to go home very much due to my schedule with Starlite.  Several months ago my mom asked me to put the date on the calendar so that we could do some mother/daughter bonding at a massive shopping thing-y.

My vocabulary skills continue to embarrass me.

As I made my way home, she called every few minutes to see how far away I was and which mile marker I had just passed.  Before you start wiping tears away as you think about how excited she was to see me, you should know that she was mainly concerned that we’d be late for this jewelry/handbag/everything show and miss out on one of the 384 booths in the showroom. 

Needless to say, I got in major trouble for stopping at a drive-thru to get some breakfast.  I believe I might have actually heard “Now we’re going to be late and miss out on all the pretty things!”

I’m happy to report that we did not miss out on all the pretty things.  In fact, we spent hours walking among the pretty things.  And by “we” I am, of course, referring to my mother, my grandmother, my OTHER grandmother and my grandmother’s best friend.  Except for the points at which we split up so that “we can make sure we canvass the ENTIRE showroom!” 

Oh interlings how I wish I was kidding.  I can’t even tell you how many times cell phones were whipped out only to hear “There is a GREAT deal on big earrings on aisle 503!” 

I ended up with some cute umbrellas to match my wellies (don’t make fun of me, ya’ll) and some jewelry.  After we were done, my mom and I went to meet up with her boyfriend. 

Yes, my mother has a boyfriend and I do not.  It is, I believe, a moment of unmatched irony.

Danny is a great guy and really loves my mom; she definitely feels the same way.  They just can’t get enough of each other, so I knew I’d get to spend some good quality time with Danny over my 36 hour visit home. 

After a nice dinner out, we headed back to my mom’s house where they dropped me off before going to get my mom’s car from where we had left it earlier.  They said they’d be back in five minutes so I went in and turned on the tv.

After about 30 minutes, I started to wonder where they were. 

After an hour passed, I began to pace the living room floor. 

After an HOUR AND A HALF passed and I had actually folded laundry, I decided to give the lovebirds a little call on their cellular devices. 

“Mom, do you know what time it is?” 

“Well… Danny and I decided to go out for some ice cream.”

“You need to come home soon.  It is getting late and we have church in the morning.”

And that, interlings, is exactly how the roles of mother and daughter came to be reversed.

And don’t even get me started about what she said to me this morning as we were getting ready for church:

“I could give you some advice about That Boy, if you want.” 

Guess which Starlite mascots puppies are recovering well from their you-know-what surgeries?

Now, we continue to attempt to master “Appropriate Bathroom Behavior.”  Which, last night, consisted of me actually quoting scripture:

“Cuddles!  You are a new creation in Christ so you need to let go of the old and go to the bathroom at the right place!”

Oh, but I didn’t leave his brother out:

“Snuggles, did you know that you can do ALL things through Christ and that includes not having accidents in the house?”

The funny thing is, I didn’t realize I was actually quoting scripture to my dogs until I went to bed last night and really thought about it.  Which led me to this Very Important Question:

All dogs go to heaven, right?