So this past weekend was my first weekend free for a while. I worked two Saturdays (aka two weekends because that also usually involves running in at other times to check on patients. No biggy, but I can't really count that as "Free.") and then ran up to Kitsap for a wedding (not working, but still many hours in the car and travel stress etc. Plus my really sexy shoes KILL my feet). So this weekend Andrew and I declared it a true lazy weekend. Set aside to doing nothing. And by nothing I mean, "have a Firefly marathon and sit on the unfolded futon in our jammies and possibly wallow in our own filth."
To further that purpose, I declared that we needed caramel corn. And gummy bears. I bagged on the gummy bears, but I DEFINITELY ran out and got some caramel corn.
And that is what we had for dinner Sunday night. Half a bag of caramel corn each. My hands were so covered in caramel grease that a paper towel was insufficient and I needed to wash my hands with soap to cut the grease.
Andrew then told me that I would be responsible for purchasing him new pants for all the fat I was making him gain.
Then I tried to explain to him that I was the person who kept trying to add veggies into our diet...and midsentence I realized there was a small lump under my tank top. Distracted, I lifted my shirt to find a small piece of caramel corn that had fallen down and stuck to me.
And THAT. Right there. Is where I lost all credibility. And lost it in general actually. Suddenly I was laughing so hysterically that I was practically in tears and trying to squeak out semi-human-sounding words involving vegetables while Andrew stood there and shook his head.
- ▼ 2011 (20)