That was a hoot! Once I stormed out of the house in a hormone-induced-trying not to be late-emotional rage, things went great.  I had to convince Noah to come along by telling him that if he smiles, gets picked and makes money he can buy himself a horse.  He didn’t smile once. Turkey.  He did walk down the runway for them.  He was a really good sport.

They took our picture and then informed me that I had to memorize a commercial script to say on camera.  It was like I was in my own psychological study. They didn’t tell me that part over the phone. I also had to walk down a runway.  I remembered all the words to the script and did a really good job. The lady told me that I work well with the camera.  They will do call backs on Friday. Noah really doesn’t want to do it. That’s fine with me, he can save up for a horse working some other type of job. He was a really good sport, though.

I told God, and I’m telling you, I will laugh if anything comes of this. What a joke.  I won’t quit my day job. Oh…wait…

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