Sunday Morning

My oldest brother and his wife ran half marathon Sunday morning in a town very near mine. Seeing as how I don't get to see them often I decided the kids and I would rally and show a little support at the finish line.

I even rallied my other brother...from his condo...10 yards from the finish...before noon. No small task. Ok so his girlfriend actually rallied him but I called.

Somehow in the sea of runners we missed them. Entirely. An hour after they crossed we were still clapping for other racers.

Proof. I present my other brother.

If you look closely you can see his enthusiasm.

Eviction Notice: Gary & Steve

WHO: The gay parrots, Gary & Steve, who have been residing in our bedroom since November of 2007 are hereby evicted.

WHEN: Gary & Steve have until end of business Monday June 30th to get out.

WHY: For non-stop squawking. My new office is a peaceful place and cannot tolerate screams, of any sort. Kids are you listening? You may be next!

Seems like they may be taking this notice seriously. Or, not. Are they mocking me?

It's Friday Foto Finish Fiesta time come play or browse the other entries.

T Minus 2 Days

The past 6 weeks things have been a tinsy bit stressful seeing as how I lost my job but wasn’t escorted immediately out of the building which has left me in limbo. My boss has let me loiter for quite some time and I am not sure which is worse escorting or loitering.

Let me summarize the last 6 weeks:

• I was told I needed to find a new job
• Relished the possibilities of getting to find new childcare
• I lost my job entirely
• I noticed my nice rack
• I realized I gained 10 pounds hence the cleavage
• Get to keep my job and work from home

Let me provide a visual:

It’s been a roller coaster around here but things have settled down a bit.

It’s been weird going through the emotions of losing my job and the stress that comes with figuring out how to afford our current lifestyle only to find out all the worry was for nothing.

So, June 30th is my last day in the office.

I’ll be “working” from home.

Reason #491 Why I Should Be Fired

I walked into work, sat down at my desk and saw the item that should have been in the box I over-nighted to a client yesterday.

That means that One Crazy Chick spent $27 to overnight an empty box.

On Twigs

Do you remember my husband who believes everything he reads on the Internet? Of course you do.

Well he's been saving us money again.

He saved us approximately $40, but these trees are twigs and aren't exactly what one is after when one is landscaping the yard.

He may never learn.

Strawberry Fields

Sunday morning we took the kids to pick strawberries...

Caught red-handed.

3.41 pounds of strawberries later we called it a day.

P.S. I know you are all wondering where my 3-year-old is during this entire trip. And here let me show you:

Kyan ran all over. The following picture depicts his approximate path while I was trying to capture this photo.

At one point he was kind enough to humor me.

Oh! And, look! He humored me again.

Why is it that when you take the family out to pick berries you are the only one who actually picks the berries and places them into the container and not your mouth?

Relocation #679

The thing I love about living in the country happens to be the exact same thing I hate about it.

Now, don't get me wrong we do live 30 minutes out of downtown Seattle and it's country-ish, but by no means is it the middle of nowhere. We have stores and espresso stands every few feet just like Belltown only with less bums.

More importantly, however, is the fact that along with less bums comes a thing called Nature. Shocking, I know.

The black bear that has been haunting the area scares me but what are you going to do when people tear down hundreds of acres for a Casino? I mean, it's supposed to be the hottest thing, so what if it displaces a few hundred wildlife creatures? That seems like a small price to pay for billions in profit. (I am totally kidding, I think it sucks but it's the nature of growth.)

But a little re-location of some wildlife happens to be, if nothing else, educational for our little ones.

I present to you Froggie Relocation #679.


Mr. Froggie's new habitat consists of an aquarium, a pond, grass taken from his original habitat and a few sticks.

(Please note after these photos were taken Mr. Froggie was once again relocated by our 3-year-old and released back into the wild to continue to grow and prosper.)

The Chick Behind the Blog: Bedroom Secrets

I have a confession.

My husband (aka One Crazy C&ck, thank you Angie I cannot stop calling him that!) and I do not share a bed.

I know I don't know why I am telling you this either.

Except that Koko's bed troubles got me thinking. It seems I am not the only one in our house incapable of making wise bed purchases.

See it wasn't always this way. Up until very recently Bob and I shared a bed. The thought of couples not sharing a bed always made me wonder and cast judgment on their marriage. Shame on them for not working out whatever differences they have, I would think to myself.

Man, it seems whenever I do that? You know, judge people, I am always humbled when something happens and I am in the very predicament I was judging. Life is funny that way. Like that one time we were leaving Palm Springs to drive to Arizona and I laughed at the people who had a flat tire. You know 3 minutes later we were stuck in the middle of the desert with no water on the side of the road for 5 hours with a jack that didn't work.

Anyway, last November Bob was having some back problems and he was convinced it was the mattress. I'll admit that the mattress was older, approximately 8 years old - the first purchase we ever made before moving in together. So, even though I was convinced it was not the mattress, because man my back feels fine, I played nice.

Instantly we both fell in love with the Sleep Number beds. How could you not? If you haven't tried one, what are you waiting for?

Despite our love for the product, $3000 is a lot of money. But, not a whole lot more than we had spent on our original bed but certainly not something we would just walk out of the store with that day. If we are going to drop that kind of cash we have to do a little research first. And where does one go to do research? The Internet because it does not lie.

My mistake was leaving the purchase in Bob's hands. I was sort of against it since my back was not hurting but not against it enough to put my foot down. I mean if the man is in pain who am I to stand in his way?

So, he started researching and before I knew it he "saved" us $1000 by getting a Sleep Number at a discounted price.

"Hmmm, I thought that they were sold by authorized retailers Bob?" I was intrigued.

"Yes, this isn't a Sleep Number and you can't try this one out but it says it is the exact same thing right here on the website," He offered.

"Oh, I suppose if the Internet told you I might die if you don't kill me first, you would do it?" I quipped.

The bed came and Bob loved it.

I, however, have had problems with my side from day one. Eventually, Bob called the manufacturer and apparently they sent the wrong part. I was relieved because Bob kept telling me I was losing my mind and this is the best bed he'd ever slept in. The replacement part arrived and I still feel like I am camping every.single.night.

A deflating air mattress once in a while is fine - its part of camping's charm. But, nightly? I don't think so. We did the only thing we could think of, we put our old mattress on the floor next to the new one.

Two king beds in one room.

It's paradise. I'm not even sure I could share with him ever again.

Size: Enormous

After 16 hours I think I've finally thrown every sticker wrapper away.

You live you learn, I guess.

The foam stickers almost found their way to the garbage entirely, but I know if I did that one rainy day I'd be wishing I had something to keep the kids from killing me.

So, I did the only logical thing, I stashed them in my underwear drawer.

You remember Koko, right?

The little 4 pound Toy Fox Terrier?

Well, a few weeks back Koko gutted her bed. I figured as punishment for such an act making her wait a few weeks for a new one would teach her a lesson. Pretty good at this parenting thing, don't ya think? Really, I just kept remembering she needed a new one when we were home but forgetting when we were near a store to actually purchase a bed.

Last Saturday Koko's luck changed. I was walking down the aisle in Costco and saw it. It was only $16 and even though it seemed a little big in the store I thought well it's better than nothing and it's cheap! (Have you seen how much those pet places charge for those cushy beds? You'd think they were stuffed with gold for those prices.)

I should have realized when I was looking at the bed in Costco that it was not 'a little big'. Costco carries nothing 'a little big'. Costco carries one size, size ENORMOUS. But, the perception in that store throws you off. When everything is sold by the case a pet bed looks small-ish in comparison to everything including a case of eggs. And, when you forget the pet you are actually purchasing said bed for is only 4 pounds the pet bed at Costco for $16 looks like a steal.

Until you bring it home. And, you let the 4 pound dog try it on for size.

Can you even see Koko?

The bed swallows Koko up entirely.

I mean, maybe a bed this size would be appropriate if Koko were starting a Doggie Brothel which I suppose is feasible given her recent track record but surely the kids would put a stop to that. They hate strange dogs.

But, it was $16 and that bed is 4 times the size the pet stores sell for twice the price. Koko is keeping this bed and she is going to like it, damn it! There I go again showing off my parenting skills.

You Can't Put a Price on Blogging Time

Seeing as how blogging taking care of my children will soon be my full time job I thought it necessary to arm myself with some crafts. I've avoided craft projects in my home for almost 4 years. Even still, when Bob saw the bags he said, oh that's a whole lotta mess just waiting to be made.

My husband sees the makings of a craft project and cringes. Not because of the craft. No. Because the project, heaven forbid, may make a mess. An itty bitty tiny gargantuan mess. This coming from the same man who will make the biggest mess of all of us and not even flinch. This coming from a man who can't seem to understand why my kids rush to wash their hands the second a potential mess gets near their paws.

I present to you what seemed like a whole lot more for $95 in the store.

The kids starting their first official project in our home (totally a lie, we made Grandma a concrete stone for Mother's Day but let's face it I did that project almost entirely).

...10 minutes later.

The key to get the most blogging time out of a project is to include a task that is a touch daunting such as peeling stickers...10 minutes later, still not much progress.

I couldn't stand to watch the project stay at a standstill, so, I pitched in.

...30 minutes later...

I present to you two toddlers ready for Poker!

Can I pause for a brief moment to show you something?

The shear weight of this sticker cluster bends the hat, people.

You just wait, I'll be buried under foam stickers by morning.

The Yard: 365

Last May we decided that it was time to do something about the current state of our yard. Upon undertaking this task I did not realize that my yard would be out of commission for most of the Summer.


Day 1 of the destruction:

Come to find out, tearing up perfectly decent yard and starting over is a lofty task.

A task that would require a good dragging by the trusty Land Rover for a week or two to rid the yard of the rock families now starting to multiply by minute.

A task that would yield a mud pit in the dead of Summer. This is Seattle, after all.

But, eventually, a year later we have the yard my husband always dreamed of.

The rock wall which was built in a rainstorm in the dead of Winter. What can I say it rains all year 'round.


But, more importantly my husband spent all of his Father's Day Weekend doing some finishing work on the patio. I present to you our eating bar.


And the benches:

Almost done! And, I can't believe it! Internet please give my husband, the best father a woman could ask, a round of applause for a wonderful backyard!

MEMORANDUM

MEMORANDUM

TO: My four readers
FIRM: http://www.onecrazychick.com/
FROM: One Crazy Chick
SUBJ: While I was Out
_______________________________________________

While I was out I...

• Got a ticket for failing to comply with a posted sign. I am such a rebel. Yes, one who now owes the state $125.
• Managed to lose my job entirely
• Cleaned the house
• Wore my last pair of clean underwear
• Polished the pole
• Spotted Koko abusing more stuffed animals
• Studied for a Random Drug Test
• Refereed a fight between Insane Mama and Tent Camper
• Ordered Business cards, after all, I'll be a full time blogger at the end of the month
• Wore my helmet
• Ignored my Reader
• Offended some people
• Did some laundry...A girl needs clean undies
• Went to bed before Midnight
• Showed up late to the job I no longer have
• Made homemade pizza
• Failed to participate in FFF
• Slept in past 8 a.m. for the first time in 4 years

I apologize for my absence but reserve the right to take such absences at ANY time. Thank you for continuing to visit.

I'm Kind of a Big Deal

This evening while browsing over at Two Dogs Running I saw on her sidebar that her blog's reading level was college and I'll admit I was a little jealous. I mean sure I went to college but only really excelled in two areas only one of which was academic.

So, I figured I'd give it whirl, I pressed the little button and entered in my blog url thinking I would hit 7th grade-ish reading level which was approximately the time I stopped paying attention in English class and discovered Cliff's Notes.

Okay, are you ready?

No! Really, grab your Poise pads.

I am pretty sure what it meant to say was: RETARDED. But the bloggy hula God's must have been out drinking tonight and figured they would throw me a bone.

Go on, try it.

Weathering the Storm, Part II

A storm blew in last night that knocked out our power sometime around 7:30 p.m. It was a doozy. One minute it was raining towards the West next minute it was towards the East, it rained every which way but straight down.

Of course, when the storm showed up Bob and I had no clue so we just did what we always do, well what we always do since my sister taught us the proper way to weather a storm when surrounded by trees, we donned our helmets.

Then I took a snapshot.

Let me take a minute to explain.

Yes, baby had an accident at daycare yesterday which has left her limping and whining. No, I don't think it's broken BUT I do know her foot is hurt, real bad.

Maybe it's time for a new daycare? Maybe Mama's Losin' It has an opening? I'm sure Ms. Awesome wouldn't have let that happen.

It's Official

I’ll be honest. I have short timers…whatever that means.

You know, I thought I would never look forward to staying home. Was I crazy? Now, the days are dragging until my last day on June 30th. Did you know that every time the phone rings in the office I pray that it isn’t new work? Because potentially that could screw my new plan to stay home.

Anyway, so yes, I have 15 days of work left (not that I am counting or anything like that). Then my real job starts, you know, someone has to do all that blogging.

I wonder why it is that suddenly I have this impulse to buy stuff. Not just project stuff for the kids, no, that would be logical.

I have this urge to buy clothes…for myself.

I know it’s weird. Like why would I need clothes to stay home? I mean I have a pair of mom jeans, isn’t that the uniform?

I think it is my money fears manifesting themselves. Those fears have a mind of their own, don’t they? I think they are the one telling me to go out shopping now before it is too late. Do it, they say. Go on and get to the mall…quickly before you, I don’t know, before you have to ask for permission or something crazy like that.

See as a married couple we’ve never really shared money. We don’t even share a bank account. And I hate to tell you that I flunked Kindergarten. Okay, so I didn’t but sharing has never been something I enjoyed. My husband either.

Here is how the SAHM decision was made:

Me: So I have X bills
Him: We’ll consolidate
Me: Great idea now your entire income covers everything. Perfect.
Him: No. Now you just need to figure out how you’ll make X.
Me: Done. Now can I be excited?

And I’m not even kidding I just agreed to make money out of thin air from home.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have some shopping to do.

Uh Oh!

Shenanigans!

Please help stop the violence.

WANTED

Double click on Poster to enlarge.

Please if you have any information of Koko's whereabouts please call 867-5309! Thank you!

Looks like Koko has Been at it Again!

Remember this?

The victim, Spot McGrowl, a 2-year-old black lab was assaulted a second time in as many days and was left for dead at the 8500 Block sometime after 5 p.m. Saturday June 7, 2008.

Story developing...stay tuned.

Lucky for us a neighboring detective was available to start the investigation immediately...

More about me...

Since it's Saturday I figured I could return some tags.

Mrs. R from The R Family Diaries tagged me for MORE ABOUT ME while JWilson over at The Wilson's Family tagged me for 6 to 10 FACTS ABOUT ME.

I'll just let this answer them both...

What was I doing 10 years ago?
Finishing my Freshman year of college. Exactly ten years ago I was watching a Dave Matthew Band concert at the Gorge.

Five Snacks I Enjoy:
Cheetos
Edamame
Rice Cakes
Cookies
Grapes

Five Things on My To Do List Today:
Visit Deanna
Pick up my niece
Costco
Take a nap
Laundry

Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Run a Non-Profit
Own a Ranch
Adopt Children
Get a house cleaner
Give Lots of Money away on my blog

Five Jobs I have had:
Nanny
Math Tutor
Manager (Target)
Assistant
Mother

Five of my bad habits:
Blogging
Eating junk food
Letting my husband do everything
Spending Money Frivolously
Gossiping

Five Places I have lived:
Mercer Island, WA
Norfolk, VA
Bellevue, WA
Issaquah, WA
Snoqualmie, WA

I am not tagging anyone specifically. If you are so inclined grab this meme and get to it!

Help! I have a Teenager

So, if you ever wondered what raising teens is like you really need to go check out Insane Mama over at Help, I Have a Teenager. She is honest, you've been warned.

My problems are not so much about my kids since they are not yet teens but I do, however, have a teenage dog. Her name is Koko. She is the cutest little Toy Fox Terrier you ever did meet.

One problem.

Suddenly, she is a teenager.

I know you are all thinking that a teenage dog can't be that bad and it isn't that bad. It's just. Well, she has this problem.

(You know, I look in the mirror some days I wonder how on earth there isn't a 13-year-old boy staring right back at me.)

What was I saying? Oh, yes her problem. Koko is horny. I am not just talking that she all I'm just going to break me off a piece of that sum'n sum'n. No. I am talking all day long she dreams about sex.

How do I know?

Because she is constantly doing this (WARNING: EXPLICIT):

I am not even kidding.

Did you hear her?

She was all SAY! MY! NAME!

No small stuffed animals are safe. Quick! Hide the children.

(Please note this video totally counts for my Friday Foto Finish Fiesta ...Doggie Porn totally qualifies for a fun video. So, if you haven't already go pick your favorite foto and get over to Candid Carrie so she knows you played along!)

That One Job that Required a Pole

Fast money is always alluring.

During college I was more susceptible to that sort of thing seeing that I didn't have children yet or a steady income. After months of watching women come and go, the abuse, the drugs, the violence I had enough.

But not before Ms. Borzhay taught me a few lessons:

• Get a tan- brown fat is prettier than white fat
• Why do something yourself if you can just pay someone else to do it for you
• Drink lots of water it makes you look younger
• Money might not buy happiness, but it pays for shopping trips which in turn make you happy
• If you want to keep a man, you better learn to give a good bj
• Strip for the one you love not for the money

Okay, so I totally lie. Ms. Borzhay didn't teach me that my mother did. Okay, okay. Enough lying.

Truth is...the pole is there for support. It was intended to be there. My husband cried when he found out it was larger than 1" because he had visions of alluring parties. I thought I would hate the pole. But, I think it adds character.

Relations

While watching my son climb the "pole" in our living room...

me: Wow he has a lot of muscle

Bob: Yes, he may be the only body builder in Kindergarten.

me: It looks like he got those Carrigan genes.

Bob: We aren't related to the Carrigans like that.

Hysterical laughter.

Because sometimes I admit I'm just stupid.

He doesn't appear to have gained his tone from Keg-Pack Daddio.

(I swear we are not training for the circus although I do see how that could be the only logical conclusion drawn from this photo.)

But rather the Carrigan that owns this boat:

(Believe me...he is as hot as you imagine!)

And she runs...

My last post was a bit negative and I have to move on.

I can't be mad about the cake anymore, I mean, he got one, right?

****

Have I told you about Talisman's Contest? I haven't? Shame on me. Tali over at Misadventures of a Modern Day Alchemist is hosting a little contest. In fact, I think it's the most creative contest ever and I think you need to enter. Go here for all the rules (part 2 has started but you still have plenty of opportunities to win!)

****

Anyway, I've been thinking about starting to run again but I need some motivation because these pesky pounds are piling on and I need to do something.

My SIL Ali and I have decided that we are going to run a 10K in September but just setting the goal hasn't gotten my hand out of the cookie jar or my ass off the couch.

So, I thought I would re-run one of my previous posts where I recounted my first 5K experience since most of my readers were not reading at that time.

Originally this post was shared in two parts found here and here.

****

What follows is the sordid saga of my first 5K race, the Salmon Days Rotary Run in Issaquah WA, on October 7th.

I thought about titling it, "How I learned to stop worrying and love the 5K", but I actually fell asleep during that movie, and so probably shouldn't attempt to cheekily reference it.

But I was worried about it.

We'll start with the fact that I just finished the C25K a few weeks ago, and ran a full 5K distance a grand total of zero times. I did, however, sneak a run in on Thursday evening sans babies and kept a 10 minute pace. After that I was confident that I could finish with a sub-35:00 on my first race.

…That is, until it hit me, I have never even run the entire distance of the race, couple that, with my competitive spirit, and I was sure I would die from exhaustion before mile marker 1.

I love me some tests, which, I suppose, is the real reason I set goals, because what would be the point of running if there weren’t a test to follow? But, tests make me nervous, the kind of nervous that makes you never want to be more than a few feet from a toilet.When I get nervous, I usually eat, Friday night was no different. My nerves had already started in so I headed to find comfort in some pizza, then I found my way to some popcorn, and I couldn’t just stop there, could I? No. I found me some frozen cookie dough.

What followed was some serious pain, cramping and hours of misery. So much misery Bob prayed my stomach would cooperate by Sunday because, he said, if I had an accident while racing he would not claim me at the finish line. What happened to those vows people?

I made it to Sunday morning in one piece, worse for wear, but feeling pretty strong, sans breakfast and most likely not needing a toilet for the next 12 years.

I finally made it to the race, and if you have never participated in one, I highly recommend it. There is an amazing energy surrounding the whole event, excitement mixed with nerves mixed with people doing really great things for themselves. To say it was empowering is an understatement.

After posing for pictures, pinning on our bibs, tying on ours chips, making sure we didn’t have to use the potty and basically after as much procrastination as possible, Ali and I joined the starting crowd. She was confident we were “middle of the packers”, and I believed her, I just didn’t agree with her where exactly the “middle of the pack” was. We finally agreed to start next to some people who seemed slower than us, I assured her passing people is more empowering than being passed, she agreed.

I took a deep breath, realizing this was only the beginning - I had to actually finish this race for it to mean anything. I started to get claustrophobic when the announcer told us there were 1600 competitors at today’s race, I looked forward and backward and all I could see for a quarter of a mile were people, lots and lots of people. I wanted out…

There I was with only one way out of this mess, run, the faster I go the sooner I could get away from all these people.

A person counts down and yells "START!" (Honestly I went when the people in front of me started, I don’t know exactly what the front of the line heard), and we were off, runners pouring out onto the road ahead. As I started running, my thoughts kept flipping between, "I feel great! This is fun! Faster! I like running! I can get used to this! Faster!" to "Oh my god, what was I thinking, I'm not going to make it, I'm going to get trounced by kids less than half my age, and marathoners over three times my age, and DIE."

But I kept going, tried to find my groove, and finally checked out the runners around me. Apparently, at my pace, I was surrounded by... people who appeared to be a lot less taxed than me. The ladies just ahead of me were holding an entire conversation while I was huffing and puffing my way through this thing.

I look ahead, and I see the water station and the one mile mark. The guy was calling out the time every two seconds. "Nine forty-eight. Nine fifty. Nine fifty-two..."

...Wait, what? I did a complete double-take and had to think hard for a few seconds to make sure that I'd parsed his sentence correctly. I'd actually hit the one mile mark in under 10 min? Was he bloody kidding me? I expected the first mile to be slow, and 9:52... Wasn’t slow.

I did a quick self-assessment to determine if I started out too fast and needed to slow down. I was surprised to find that I felt fine, not inordinately taxed at all. I was putting in a heavy effort and breathing harder than I would be on a training run, but nothing that I couldn't maintain.

Then my inner voice started to haunt me, “You’ve gone too fast, slow down, you’ll never make it.” As much as I tried to ignore that voice, my legs were slower and not nearly as fast as I had started then I started to feel taxed.

I pressed on. At the second mile marker, the time was 20:20. So that was a 10:28 split for the second mile. At this point I was tired and getting quite cranky. Mostly cranky with the ladies who would sprint and then walk but somehow I couldn’t shake them from my pace and since I was tired I wanted to walk so, so bad but I had made only two goals for this race and not walking was one of those goals, so walking wasn’t an option. At one point, rounding out toward mile marker 3 I actually had to hold my hand up to block myself from seeing THE WALKERS.

Suddenly, like an angel from heaven, a lady passes me, coaching her daughter, all of 10, she lets her know that the remainder of the race ahead of us was all of a lap, in a different situation I may have made out with her but I had a race to finish. I perked up at this wonderful news because a quarter of a mile was nothing, at most 3 minutes, and I could finally see the end in sight and although I wanted to die, I wasn’t dead.

Coming into this race I had anticipated I would be able to see end and kick it into high gear, however, this was not the case, and I was in overdrive already and wanted nothing more than a bucket to catch my vomit.

Crossing the finish line was a blur I just wanted to make it over all of the chip readers before stopping. Upon completion I was disoriented, crying (yes, I wept, mostly because I have never been so happy to have something end in my entire life) and in need of water because I had a bad case of cotton mouth.

In the midst of my emotional break down a volunteer was trying to tell me he wanted my chip, seriously until he bent over I thought he was speaking another language. I finally got a grip but not before I started shaking like a leaf, apparently my body didn’t like the abuse or maybe next time I’ll eat something before the race.

I survived and it turns out I didn’t do too shabby either.

So, an overview of my goals...

1. Finish the race -- check.

2. Do not walk -- check.

3. Try for a sub-35:00 -- check!!

My final stats for this race were:

Mile one: 9:52

Mile two: 20:20 (10:28 split)

Finish time: 31:52Pace: 10:16

Place: 407Female: 219/461 (52 percentile)

Age Division: 16/36 (55 percentile)

For my first race after two months of training... I can live with that. In fact I can't wait to do it again!

****

I'm looking for inspiration people. Please, inspire me.

It’s Only Cake

So why does this bother me so much?

Sometimes I can be a real bitch.

My husband is the hardest worker I know and I am not just saying that because he reminds me daily. On Saturday, he went and loaded up 4 yards of dirt and dispersed it into our yard and then went and got 2.5 yards of bark for the flower beds and dispersed it. In the evening he lovingly watched the children so I could attend another Body Shop party with the ladies.

Meanwhile during a trip to Costco on Saturday I realized we needed to get dinner together for his Mother’s birthday. I called him and we figured it out. I asked whether I should head to Baskin & Robbins for her favorite cake or not. See that was my mistake, I asked for permission or for his opinion when I didn’t really want it. I think someone should get the cake they want for their birthday regardless of whether or not it is what we want. Wouldn’t you agree? But I asked what he thought I should do and he told me. He told me the cakes are overpriced and freezer burnt. I told him to figure it out.

On Sunday he returned with a cake and ice cream – one’s he enjoys but, hey, we all like chocolate, right? Yet, when we went to eat it I couldn’t stop telling him how gross it was compared to the BR cake. I could hear myself saying words I wish I wouldn’t, yet I couldn’t stop or didn’t.

And you know what? I am still pissed.

Saucy

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