the weekend was full of us, and i think i laughed most of the way through it.
however. if you somehow felt a shot of peeve fly through the air on saturday morning, i do apologize. it's just that we had ten minutes to get to the girlies' lacrosse scrimmage, which is normally not a problem because it's only five away.
unless.
ohmygosh. do you even know how hard i tapped that unless? very.
unless you have an uncle sugar in the car. one who sees how huffy-impatient you are at the way he leisurely arranges his travel espresso, looks at himself in the mirror, and then de-smudges his ray-bans. and unless. he. decides. to. take. a. shortcut. that. is. more. like. a. longcut. because. it. just. added. seven. minutes. to. your. drive.
i am still gritting my teeth.
i realize this is not that big of a deal, but i am a fuh-reak about lateness. i feel like it's right next to lazy and disheveled and doesn't brush their teeth in the dictionary. i hate hate hate late. so that really contributed to my scowl.
but then lillie asked me about the craigslist killer. and esmé's eyes grew huge. so i made that crazy-face at lill like i'll tell you the real-ish story later and proceeded to tell a tale about a lady who wanted to sell her couch so she ran an ad that said something about "i have a couch to sell you. i live all by myself and i always answer the door to strangers even though my mom tells me that is dangerous behavior, so just come over and create an unsafe environment for me! i won't care!" and so a bad man showed up and said "red?! i thought this couch was going to be brown!" and then he pushed her over and she hit her head and became an angel straight-away because she wasn't wearing a helmet.
and esmé's eyes grew huge with understanding.
until.
ohmygosh. do you even know how hard i tapped that until? very.
until uncle sugar piped in and said "karey...it was a prostitution ring, wasn't it? and the guy raped a bunch of women before he killed them, am i right?"
i get a lot of comments and mails about how dreamy is uncle sugar. sometimes, people even ask "does he have a brother?" and sometimes i tease him and say that he'll find his next wife among my readers. to which he replies "i would NEVER get married again." which sounds a lot less like "because no one could ever compare to you" and more like "you think i'd put myself through this #@*! again?" and so sometimes i think i should give you the real skinny on my uncle sugar. that naughty thing.
that makes me laugh and forget all about his failed shortcut. plus that whole craigslist debacle. and anything else, really. because he made us fish tacos that would've killed you with their yumminess...and crème brûlée. and removed every stinkbug in my path this weekend.
nobody's perfect, i guess.
except me and you.
my friend sent me this ages ago, and i still laugh so hard at it that i have to wipe tears from my eyes. it's funny, yes? the first three photos that stopped my in my tracks this morning: here, here, and here.
however. if you somehow felt a shot of peeve fly through the air on saturday morning, i do apologize. it's just that we had ten minutes to get to the girlies' lacrosse scrimmage, which is normally not a problem because it's only five away.
unless.
ohmygosh. do you even know how hard i tapped that unless? very.
unless you have an uncle sugar in the car. one who sees how huffy-impatient you are at the way he leisurely arranges his travel espresso, looks at himself in the mirror, and then de-smudges his ray-bans. and unless. he. decides. to. take. a. shortcut. that. is. more. like. a. longcut. because. it. just. added. seven. minutes. to. your. drive.
i am still gritting my teeth.
i realize this is not that big of a deal, but i am a fuh-reak about lateness. i feel like it's right next to lazy and disheveled and doesn't brush their teeth in the dictionary. i hate hate hate late. so that really contributed to my scowl.
but then lillie asked me about the craigslist killer. and esmé's eyes grew huge. so i made that crazy-face at lill like i'll tell you the real-ish story later and proceeded to tell a tale about a lady who wanted to sell her couch so she ran an ad that said something about "i have a couch to sell you. i live all by myself and i always answer the door to strangers even though my mom tells me that is dangerous behavior, so just come over and create an unsafe environment for me! i won't care!" and so a bad man showed up and said "red?! i thought this couch was going to be brown!" and then he pushed her over and she hit her head and became an angel straight-away because she wasn't wearing a helmet.
and esmé's eyes grew huge with understanding.
until.
ohmygosh. do you even know how hard i tapped that until? very.
until uncle sugar piped in and said "karey...it was a prostitution ring, wasn't it? and the guy raped a bunch of women before he killed them, am i right?"
i get a lot of comments and mails about how dreamy is uncle sugar. sometimes, people even ask "does he have a brother?" and sometimes i tease him and say that he'll find his next wife among my readers. to which he replies "i would NEVER get married again." which sounds a lot less like "because no one could ever compare to you" and more like "you think i'd put myself through this #@*! again?" and so sometimes i think i should give you the real skinny on my uncle sugar. that naughty thing.
that makes me laugh and forget all about his failed shortcut. plus that whole craigslist debacle. and anything else, really. because he made us fish tacos that would've killed you with their yumminess...and crème brûlée. and removed every stinkbug in my path this weekend.
nobody's perfect, i guess.
except me and you.
my friend sent me this ages ago, and i still laugh so hard at it that i have to wipe tears from my eyes. it's funny, yes? the first three photos that stopped my in my tracks this morning: here, here, and here.
11 comments:
i am also a fuh-reak when it comes to lateness !
almost to the point where people will stop and stare waiting to see if my head will explode....
Seriously, my favorite story on your blog. Husbands are a funny thing.....never a dull moment for you.
I love soaking up every. single. Mackin. word!! so good. poor uncle sugar... sounds like he made up for it in fish tacos. those always work for me. oxo
Baaahahahahaha. Confession: I read your blog in between the math classes I teach to high schoolers for a little taste of humanity, and I laaaaauuuggghhhheeedddd out loud when I read Uncle Sugar's craiglist comment. Maybe it's the 15 year-olds I spend so much of my time with, but the only thing I can think of as a comment about it is "I feel ya."
uncle sugar still gets two thumbs up from me. a man who takes time to arrange a travel espresso {love this!) and can dance his way around the kitchen while creating delectable fare is a long shot from being cut short of perfection.
and the first image is better than fantastic...it is freakin' fabulous!
bwahahaha! Love it! I've got one of those fellas at home too. For him it's a mindful, buddhist, focus on the moment kinda thing - but boy can it drive me bazonkers!
And his Tilapia Fish Tacos are only second to this:
http://necessarypleasures.blogspot.com/2011/01/pork-and-pineapple-tacos.html
BTW, love our blog. Glad my friend BunnyVictorious pointed me your direction!
You make me laugh with tears sometimes! Your UncleSugar sounds like my HotHusband... OCD routine that he has to go through while PrettyStuff and I wait at the back door... geeze! He waits until we are ready to walk out to get up and then he has to go through this whole ridiculous nose-blowing-rug straightening-toilet-flushing-water drinking-hair-flipping routine of stuff before he can leave the house and says he's been waiting on us...I wish he could make fish tacos so this too would fade in my memory, but no, he only cleans...which is good, but makes me feel only guilty for not.
Ahhhh...my sister and I had a talk yesterday about our fellas that would have left me typing extra hard had it been an email conversation! Selective hearing and the ability to "tune out" were our topics. We were both laughing so hard at the end of the phone call I would have almost thanked my husband for his ways. Almost.
This post was just perfect, all the way through. God, I love how you take three sentences in a car ride and turn them into magic. YOU!
{I tapped that y-o-u very hard, I tell you!}
Ok, I'm a latey. I hate it and I hate it about myself. I blame it on my mom (instilling bad habits). I know this is not a good idea. And I blame it on my 3 kids and the one cramped up in my belly. Not a good excuse either. I think I'm just overly optimistic about how long it takes to get out of the house, maybe? I was feeling kind of bad about myself, like maybe I should make sure my teeth are clean extra clean to make up for it but then I kept reading and nearly fell off my chair laughing..."you think I'd put myself through this $%^&* again?!" I'm pretty sure mr. la la would say the same. And anyhow. I need laughing more than I need a new pair of anything right now and that is saying something. So thank you, as always for the perfect words that are just right and always with a splash of funny!
xoxo Trina
Ps- Last night I dreamt that you worked in a spa. And I called to make an appt. and was going to fly all the way there to your spa and you told me it just wasn't a good time and maybe I could make an appt another time. ha ha!
If I don't get to stay up all night, in our pjs, drinking wine ( or whatever) and laughing so hard my stomach hurts and tears are raining down...next year at alt....with you...I will never recover. There, I said it.
xo
Melis
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