After spending five hours at church this morning, I came home and put on my PJ pants and Shannon and I watched stoner movies, many of which feature Fred Willard. Anyway, I just went outside to move my car so she could take hers to get us some Fazoli's for dinner. I went to find a pair of slip-on shoes, since it's cold and came up with one blue plaid one and one brown leather one. As I was walking out the door wearing PJ pants, my grammar t-shirt and white socks with ladybugs on them and mismatched shoes, I was like, dude, I think you are rubbing off on me in a big way (she spent the better part of the day wearing vertical stripe PJ pants, a black tank top, and a horizontal stripe cardigan, with a houndstooth coat added when she went out to smoke-we are classy dames). To be fair, some of my stuff is rubbing off on her too. I've got her saying 'balls,' enough that her sister has picked it up too. ;)