So obviously I’ve been pretty sad lately (as in over the past few days).
But the Irish girl in me (about 1/4 to 1/8 of me… I’m a bit diluted) is fighting hard to find a joke in here.
I think about different conversations I have had or might have, and I try to work in a infertility joke.
It’s not possible.
Infertility is the most unfunny topic ever.
And even when I think of something that sounds funny to me, I realize that if I say it out loud, I will put everyone else in a bad spot. You can almost see the panic on peoples’ faces as they think: Laugh? Don’t laugh? Is it funny? I don’t know! I don’t know! HELP!
That’s not really fun for anyone.
I guess I’ll just have to honor the Belgian in me: chocolate and beer, please!
I’d long considered the Good Bar the “filler” candy in the mixed bags of miniature candies (you know, the assortment with milk chocolate, dark chocolate, krackle and Good Bar).
It’s the Good Bar. It’s not my personal favorite (miniature Reeses Peanut Butter Cups all the way!), but I had a miniature Good Bar today.
Think about it: the peanut is America’s nut. If you don’t like the peanut, you are probably allergic to it. Peanuts are the perfect snack because just a small amount goes a long way!
They have protein. Who doesn’t need more protein??
Take the peanut and coat it with the perfect proportion of smooth milk chocolate and it IS the Good Bar. MMM!
If only it came in dark chocolate – then I think it could give the miniature Reeses Peanut Butter Cup a run for its money.
And that is my third grade narrative on the Good Bar. Thank you.
Sally is our new snow blower.
After a somewhat rocky start (how do I put this thing together? where is the gas? what is a choke? how much oil goes in there?? wait, where is the oil thingie??) and a 30 minute break to let the engine dry out (woops), Sally and I conquered the driveway.
What a thrill!
After just 30 minutes (several minutes were spent banging snow off of our pine tree so that the branches weren’t hanging too low and hitting me in the face) I was back in side, in my comfies and watching TV.
But I didn’t come in until I wiped down the snowblower and made sure she was safe in the garage. I thought about bringing her into the house for the night, but I thought it might be too much.
Ah, sweet Sally. Welcome to the K Fam.
And lots of thanks to Frank for getting her!
(It’s my page and I’ll be cheesy if I want to)
10. He calls me at work and asks me what I’m wearing (nothing) and then we discuss Starcom Naked Days (nonexistent).
9. He puts his very cold hands on my very warm tummy. Hm……..
H. He makes me relax–although that usually requires him to physically hold me down or some ice cream. (take your pick…)
7. He doesn’t mock George (my car) as much as I’m sure he wants to.
6. He loves all of me–even personality #8 (down girl!).
5. He listens to me talk for three hours in person, then talks to me on the phone. AND STILL TALKED TO ME IN THE MORNING!
4. He makes me laugh, even when I am blue.
3. He can talk me down from my metaphorical “ledge”. (That’s CRAZY talk!)
2. He eats what my mom puts in front of him–no questions!
And the top reason Frank rocks my world:
1. His hands love my hands, even when they are being b&tchy.