All About Megan

Megan has been back home for nearly a month now. Our lives have been made considerably more exciting.

Since Megan has been home, she's turned the ripe old age of 19.

Megan has embarked on a new and exciting career. She went to a job fair, started interviewing with Del Taco, and suddenly the interviewer realized she was our daughter. Turns out the interviewer was our renter earlier this year. She and her husband were building a house in Shepherd and only rented for 5 months. She told Megan we were "so nice" and wanted to return the favor by not only hiring her, but also starting her out at a higher wage than the normal starter.

See kids? Your mother was right: it pays to be nice to people! You're welcome, Megan.

When we visited Megan at work today, her boss told us she is just a "little sparkler" a "great worker" and "so adorable". Makes a mommy proud....

Megan pretended to be slightly embarrassed at her mom playing paparazzi. So we ate some tacos,

...then we drove around to the drive-thru where Megan couldn't pretend to ignore us and ordered dessert.

I completely disguised my voice when ordering, but somehow Megan figured out it was me.

Megan demonstrated her best "how I deal with annoying customers" smile.

When she's not working, Megan pops out of bed at 7 am to do an exercise program entitled "Insanity". Seems appropriate.

She also Skypes a lot with somebody.

Occasionally she takes a quick nap.
Late night skyping + early morning exercise + all day work=exhaustion.

When Stan and I went to Denver, Megan fulfilled my worst nightmare. At 6 am one morning, I started receiving texts from Megan telling me someone was knocking at the door and wouldn't go away. I suggested she ignore the knocker. Fifteen minutes later, the knocker was still at it. I told her to go peek out the window and describe the car to me. She peeked. No car. After 45 minutes of persistent knocking, I was terrified, sure that some creeper was about to break in and kidnap her. As I was trying to figure out how to call Billings 911 from Denver, I suggested she sneak out to the car, lock herself in, drive out onto the street, crack her window open, and demand to know what he wanted. She did. As she pulled out, she said "It's someone wearing a hoodie, with some kind of drink in his hand." Horrified, I whispered back "IS IT BEER?" Yes, I know-but that's the best question I could come up with under pressure. From Megan's end there was a lengthy and scary silence.

"Oh." she said finally, "It's David!" Turns out her friend had driven through the night from Idaho to deliver a cup of hot chocolate. He was kind enough to keep her company all day, then drove back home all night to make it to church the next day.

My legs were shaky for the rest of the day. I'm too old for that kind of excitement.

In other Megan excitement, we've got a new look for my car. Somehow the garbage can jumped out and slapped the mirror when Megan was pulling out of the driveway.

Well, I guess we've discovered where all those hefty paychecks of Megan's are going.

Finally, since Megan is home for the summer, I thought I teach her everything I know. Here I'm demonstrating how a ponytail should look. Poor Megan, she just doesn't seem to be getting it. Are you feeling as sorry for Megan as I am?