Is It Me or Is It Perfect In Here?

"What was I thinking when I volunteered for this?" was my thought as we pulled away from the last girl's house. Why in heavens name did I volunteer to drive MP and two of her Israel-bound friends to the airport? I couldn't figure it out. But as the trip went by, I suddenly realized why I did it. Entertaining a bunch of MP's as we sat in traffic for what felt like hours turned out to be the best entertainment ever.

Before we set off to pick up her friends, MP issued me a strict warning. "My friends think you're normal. Please keep it that way." I laughed and told her that the public has a right to know the truth. She looked panicky, and told me that it's too late to call the taxi, and could I PLEASE behave myself? "like, don't tell them anything too embarrassing, ok?" I couldn't figure out what she was trying to ask me. "Well, I spent the entire night last night preparing a list of conversation topics I could embarrass you with, do you want to see it?" She didn't.
So we picked up friend number one. She loaded her brand name luggage into my trunk, and we were off to pick up friend number two. Friend number two took longer, because she had her entire family there to see her off. Needless to say, she was dead embarrassed of her family, as MP's generally are, so we were out of there eventually. And then the fun started. "Guys, I brought my Prada phone!"
Prada phone? Silly me! I thought prada made clothes and the like. (Just when I figure out a company they go and change things...) I hoped I wasn't embarrassing my perfect sister, and asked what a Prada phone is. She wouldn't let me lay my non-perfect hands on it, but she took it out of the case to show me. It looked, surprisingly enough, like a phone. Friend2 turned it on, and MP and F1 squealed. "oooh! It says PRADA on the screen."
Conversation then turned to the stress of packing. "I spent hours in [insert name of neighborhood's ritzyest, most exclusive store] making sure I had enough clothing for the trip." The other two nodded in sympathy. I tried unsuccessfully to keep the smirk off my face. I never realized how much easier my life is because of my hatred of shopping.
Having finished the topic of shopping and and packing for the trip, they went on to the important task of complimenting eachother on their fabulous choices. "Ok, I need help choosing which to wear most often. I have these guccis (puts on ugly black sunglasses), these pradas (exchanges pair), and these lacostes (dons final pair). What do you think?" MP was quick to offer a suggestion. "These Kate Spades might look better on you. Try them and I'll wear your Pradas."
Wait a minute, are they, or are they not, talking about sunglasses? The conversation continued in this vein until someone noticed MP's now sweatshirt. "Oh, hey! MP I like your Juicy!" Now, personally, when I saw that sweatshirt, I asked MP why it had a J on it, when her name starts with an M. She didn't answer me. So now I discovered the truth. This was the emblem of another cult.
I had enough. I couldn't keep myself from laughing any longer, so I knew I would have to move the conversation away from things I found so ludicrous. Unfortunately, my next conversation topic ha F1 and F2 crying from laughter, and MP chuckling along, while glaring at me out of the corner of her eye. We eventually reached the airport, and MP tried to usher her friends out of my presence as fast as possible. The Perfects presented me with a highly perfect keychain, that I am embarrassed to admit ownership of. I thanked them in as perfect of a way as a blob like me is capable of, and they departed. I was marveling at their parting line all the way home. "Thanks for the ride SD! And thanks for the entertainment! It was the best ride I ever had!"
Hey! This is a highly perfect person we are talking about. The icing on the cake came a little after I got home. A text from MP saying "thanks for driving us SD! My friends think u are soo cute!"

I have the approval of three little miss perfects. Joy to the world!