Conversations....

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Grandma to me: "You have such a cute little boy."
Me: "Emi's a girl."
Grandma: "Well, I've never had one that looked like that before."

Ten minutes later...

Grandma "Emi's really tan."
Me: "Grandma, she's not entirely white."
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Somehow throughout the week my name became an euphemism for screwing somebody financially... at least according to my bosses.  For example.... "Now figure out your bonus using the "Dawn" method."
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I figured out that I need to go to the eye doctor after this conversation:

Me to Tommy: "Who is that big guy at first base?"
Tommy: "Prince Fielder, son of Cecil Fielder."
Me: "Huh.... that's weird. I had Cecil Fielder's Tombstone Pizza Baseball card and I could swear he was black."
Tommy: "He is."
Me: "Then how is his son white?!"

Here is a picture of Prince Fielder, the son:



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My boss told me in all seriousness this week that if I were in jail he would totally bail me out. I told him in all seriousness that I would totally never call him.
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You know you spend too much time working on the house when your nephew says "I like Lowe's. It's like Auntie Dawn's house."
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