I do not speak Spanish. No matter how many times you call, I cannot understand you. Speaking faster and more loudly does not help. I can tell you are speaking Spanish, yet you do not seem to realize that I am speaking English. I know you've had to have gotten my voicemail at least a few times and heard that my name is 'Leann' and I speak English. I doubt you are trying to call someone with my name and voice. Maybe I should take some Spanish lessons in order to convey to you that I do not, in fact, speak Spanish. Then again, I guess I would be lying then! At least I could tell him that he has a wrong number and he actually might get it!
To my husband:
You have no idea how lucky you are that the retractable ballpoint pen that you left in your pocket was not open when I washed and dried it with the clothes. After the last incident, I'd have thought that you'd have remembered not to do that! Apparently, I was wrong. I sort the clothes, wash the clothes, dry the clothes, fold the clothes and put them away. Digging through pockets, as far as I'm concerned, should be out of my jurisdiction. Actually, so is trying to get ink out of various articles of clothing and nearly passing out from the fumes of nail polish remover as I bury my head the dryer, trying to scrub the ink away. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. PLEASE EMPTY YOUR OWN POCKETS!!!!
(Unless, of course, it's just money. I keep that and, frankly, rather enjoy how clean and shiny the coins come out of the wash and the profit )
To Chocolat:
I am so proud of you! You deserve to be happy and are on your way there now. You will find that man that makes you feel better instead of worse. He's out there, so don't settle for that other guy, okay? I really hope we get together soon....if I can get some time away from my kids....unless you'd like to hang out with my traveling three-ring-circus!
To the guy who calls my husband's cell phone:
No matter how many times you call, 'Nacho' will not answer. Nor will we ever be able to get him to the phone. Keep trying, if you will. He'll never be here!
To the dj guy at last night's football game:
Apparently, the Macarena has now become so lame that it's cool again because you played it so often at yesterday's game. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm caught between feelings of familiarity and annoyance...
5YO's 'bite' is fine. While I'm sure it is actually a bite, I have no idea what kind of creature did the biting. The swelling is gone completely and the wound is finally healing. Now I think I need to pick up more Benadryl and just put 5YO's name on the bottle!
The past few days have been filled with knitting, football games, cookie-baking, yarn-untangling, leftover eating, and sheer exhaustion. We're having THIS for dinner tonight. I opted to use Cream of Chicken soup instead of Cream of Mushroom. The creepy grey color is no longer there. It's been replaced with a lighter tan color that looks a lot more appealing, almost like a light gravy. I can totally handle gravy look. I just hope it tastes as yummy as it did the last time. That was some good stuff, Maynard!
Once again, a big thanks to the Crockpot Lady for all of her wonderful ideas and recipes! That chicken already smells so good that it's driving me BONKERS!!!
Have a great night!
1 comment:
Well, do you know what a RickRoll is? Search Youtube for Rickroll and you'll see that it just leads you to a video of "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley. You mislead people by telling them that a link goes to somewhere they're interested in (like free porn) but it just goes to that video. Perhaps that's what the DJ was trying to pull with the Macarena.
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