On Old McDonald's farm, there lived a flamingo

This weekend was a whirlwind of pink. The Parental Units are over and so I took this opportunity to hit mom up for making me a flamingo "poncho". I found the pattern last week and asked, but this was the first she got a chance to glance at the beauty that would be my flamingo poncho. Anyone else looking at this pattern would never assume that a simple, non assuming piece of brown clothing (the picture shows it in brown) could in fact be turned into a Pink Flamingo Poncho. I'm sure it'll be all the rage and everyone will want one. I'll make millions. Of course, I'll have to give some to the mom unit since she produced it, and well, me ultimately.

We wondered through the fabric store touching, looking, moving all pink fabric we could to see which would be best for the coveted Flamingo Poncho. (You know you want one.) Then we decided on a nice piece of crushed velvet. We wondered back to find thread as the MomUnit reminded me one uses thread to sew. See why I don't sew. On our way we stopped and picked out a feather boa that would match. The MomUnit kept exclaiming that she'd be blind by the end of this. I believe she was referring to the brightness of the fabric, but it could be she's just getting on in her years. (She'll be 60 this year... shhhh don't tell her. She still thinks she's 35).

We wondered around the back side of the "sewing" area and behold. I found this. This beautiful flamingo - sorta - looking fabric. If you look closely enough you'll see that the fabric has some texture like little individual threads stick out...sorta flamingo shag really. The boa we had for the other fabric clashed in a bad way with this, so I ran back and picked up this lighter pink number. The boa will line the neck line and the bottom hem of the poncho. Eva Gabor will have nothing on my Flamingo Poncho. Hey, maybe she'll want to buy one or two. If she's even still alive. I'm giddy with excitement for this costume. It'll be one for the history books that's for sure. Last night whilst I dozed off into flamingo dream land I had this fleeting thought about my foot high wig, "How on earth am I going to drive my Mustang with that wig on?"