Smiling Drool!

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I was flipping through my phone the other day and found this picture, I forgot I took.

Yeah, that's smiling drool!

I vaguely remember waking up in the middle of the night and seeing that, and then my husband telling me to take a picture. I guess you can’t having smiling drool and not capture it’s moment for all of time.

I’ve been having issues sleeping for about a week. I don’t know what happened! Usually I’m the type of person that needs roughly 22 hours of sleep to function.

Usually I lay in bed for a while trying to sleep until some crazy hour after the sun comes up. This week as soon as I’m off work it’s lights out for me.  I mean I guess it’s great getting up early and having a full day before work, but I don’t get off work until 3 a.m., and those later hours are starting to get really rough.

I even been trying to take a nap during the day so I won’t turn into a zombie around midnight, and that is hard too!

Maybe 28 is the year of no sleep.

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How I Exasperate My Husband: The Series – Part 2

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Him: “What do you want for dinner?”
Me: “I dunno, what do you want?” *looks sheepishly around*
Him: “Whatever you want,  you have something in mind don’t you?”
Me: “…No….uh huh…”
Him: “Yes you do, out with it!”
Me: “No I don’t….”
Him: “Yes you do, come on…out with it!”
Me: “Pfft I don’t, what do you want for dinner?”
Him: “For you to tell me what you have in mind.”
Me: “I don’t have anything, honest!”
Him: “Yes you do, I can tell.”
Me: “How about omelets?”
Him: “You knew that you wanted that five minutes ago didn’t you?”
Me: “Uh…. no I just thought of it!”
Him: “Riiiiiiiiiigggghhhhhttttttt.”

How I Exasperate My Husband: The Series – Part 1

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Apologies for yesterday’s extremely too long, too rambly ramble rant about life. I’ll try not to do that again…

And now, I’d like to talk about how fun it is to annoy my husband!

For anyone who doesn’t know my husband, he’s a big nerd. I mean a D&D – comic books – Star Wars  kind of nerd. I always hear him and his friends talk about characters in short hand. For instance, Captain America becomes “Cap”. Superman is “Supes”. Batman becomes “Bats”. You get the idea.

So every time I hear my husband say “Cap”, I always follow it up with “tain America”. I don’t know why, but I get some sort of irrational aggravation that boils up inside of me every time I hear “Cap”.

Well, turns out I’m a bit of a hypocrite. I give shorthand to words that don’t need shorthand at all!

We have an entertainment store in town called Hastings, or to me “The Tings”. Yeah, I know, it’s nonsensical. Totes nonsensical. See I can’t be bothered to say totally. Totes can’t be bothered.

When I sit down to watch a movie I have some plopski. That’s not exactly shorthand for popcorn…I don’t know what you’d call that. Insanity maybe.

Well so I like to make my own words up. I think they sound better than “Cap”… but the sighs I get from my husband every time. Oh the sighs. They are what fuel me.

Mwahahahaha.

Merry Ho-Ho-Boo-Hoo

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My husband is really morbid. I don’t know if he was dropped on his head a few too many times as a child, or what, but he sure does get a kick out of gross, sad, deeply disturbing things.

A couple of weeks ago he was giggling at the thought of my life on Christmas had he died that moment. “Would you just stare at the pile of gifts and cry?” He asked me as he giggled like a fat eight year on a shopping spree in a candy shop. He wondered would I ever open them, if I did would I enjoy them? What would I do with the gifts I gave him? Would I keep them for myself or would I return them? He went on and on as I melted into sobs, all the while he was giggling more and more.

Yes, he took this picture of me real time as he was spewing this sad crap!

What would I do if he knew he was going to die before Christmas, so arranged for gifts to be delivered to me each Christmas? There it would come, every Christmas, a reminder of my loss. What would I do if I had moved on from him, and was with someone else who made me happier? These are the things that kept spewing from his mouth!

Finally he stopped, realizing how upsetting these thoughts were. I cry at sappy McDonald’s commercials, so all these thoughts of my husband mysteriously dying days before Christmas….you know what I can’t talk about it, it’s just too sad.

Tonight he came up with a gem, there is a parallel universe where we are divorced and don’t even care about the Christmas gifts we have for each other now. Sigh.

This is what I live with. At least he keeps me entertained. It’s always untelling what is going to come out of his mouth next.

Sticker Bush

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The term “sticker-bush” has been one of great debate in my home – mainly because I know what I’m talking about…and my husband thinks I’m completely insane. You know what, I’ll let him talk about it. Take it away husband of mine!

Yeah…thanks…I think. I don’t know what else to say about this except maybe that stuff like this is why I keep finding an increasing number of grey hairs. She starts going on about cowboys petting God with their heels and getting stuck on His jeans…and then has the nerve to question why I don’t understand. Like any of this makes sense. Like I’m somehow out of touch with reality for not understanding that the almighty naturally has cowboys stuck all over his stylish dungarees. All this originated by me questioning her weird Ozark dialect too…lesson learned. I think the video speaks for itself though.

Yeah, well I know what I’m talking about, and that is all that matters to me!

Blog About Soup

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I love chicken and cheese soup.

Wait, I should back up in my little tale and start at the beginning. One night as I was laying in bed, I got a little hungry. I mentioned this to my husband, to which he matter-of-factly replied, “Eat some chicken and cheese soup.”

I immediately burst out laughing. I don’t know why, but something about the way he said it, or maybe the fact that at that point I had never heard of such a thing, or maybe it was that the sun was about to come up and I still hadn’t slept. Whatever the cause, I was tickled and couldn’t stop laughing for probably half an hour.

My husband was quick to point out that this so-called chicken and cheese soup was something I had to know about, because I had bought it!

Well, from that point on, the chicken and cheese soup became sort of joke in the ole’ house-o-Woo. I just kept giggling for no reason at the mere mention of it.

Then one day, I did it. I dove in. I poured that glorious soup out into a bowl and ate it for dinner. It’s the best soup ever! It’s just so creamy, and cheesy, and those chunks of potato…..mmmmm.

I couldn’t think of what to write about tonight. Maybe I shouldn’t have vowed to myself to write a blog a day for the entire month…but dammit I’m trying to stick to my guns here! So I asked my husband, like always, what I should ramble about for a few minutes. He just so happened to be flipping through my photos on my phone, and came across this wonderful picture, prompting him to suggest I write about my love — chicken and cheese soup.

Just ignore the mess that is my desk...

Yes, yes I did apparently take a picture of my soup, I enjoy it that much…

Hey, whatever keeps us happy, right?

Such a Weird Kid

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The other day I was thinking about that one time I thought I was going to go to prison for spilling spaghetti sauce on the carpet. That got me to thinking about a few more weird things that I did when I was a kid.

* I used to get my foot caught in the middle of my bike chain…all the time. I don’t even know how this is possible, but I’d start out on my bike with one foot on each side, like a normal person, and then out of nowhere my right foot for instance would go through the bike chain and to the other side of the bike, where my left foot was peddling. Needless to say this resulted in me crashing a lot. One time this happened when I was 6 or 7, right after they had just put new blacktop on the road, so I burned my face!

* When I was 6 years old my sister Kelly was born.  One night my mom put me in the tub to take a bath. She told me not to make a lot of noise, and not wanting to ever get into trouble I kept to my promise not to be noisy and wake the baby. Well, it got to the point that I was done with my bath and wanted to get out. So I started whispering “mom, mom I’m done.” Not that she could hear that..at all.

* For some reason around the age of 7 or 8 I got really concerned about my acne. Now,  you may be asking, “Laura, what acne, you were only 7 or 8, surly you had no acne?” Well, you’d be right. I had no acne of course, but by golly I wanted to nip that non-existent acne in the bud. So I asked my mom for advice. I will go to my grave swearing that she told me when she was younger that she would put peanut butter on her face to prevent acne. She claims she told me that eating peanut butter caused acne…but I think she’s just making that up! At any rate, taking my mom’s apparently non-existent advise to heart I promptly began smearing peanut butter on my face! Half a jar later I went to present myself to my mom to make sure I’d done it right. That resulted in a bath…and probably again causing my mom to wonder why she’d had such a weird kid.

*One time around the age of 10 or so my mom introduced me to a classmate. I threw out my hand to shake hers and said “Hi, my name is Laura. I’m neurotic!” I was not and never have been neurotic, just weird!

I guess some things never change…