Tag Archives: marriage

Aaaaccckkkkk!!! 

I have missed 6 days!! I’m not so much writing a story today as a run-of-the-mill blog post. Heck, it might even border on mildly boring, but as I’ve had a couple of adult beverages … I don’t really have a snappy end to that sentence. 😄

Okay, so the kitty kat got her stitches out today. She does has an infection, most likely from licking the wound site, but she got a shot of antibiotics. There’s a bit of inflammation, too, but our vet is hopeful that it is just partial post-op inflammation and infection. 

We did get the biopsy results, and it is intermediate mammary adenocarcinoma. Runs in the family. We’re still staying hopeful, though, since the vet did cut ahead of the direction of the growth that she’ll be all right for awhile. 

On lighter news, we did have a busy memorial weekend of a college graduation and a birthday party. Thankfully, the graduation was at Transylvania University in Lexington, KY, and as it’s a small liberal arts college, there were only 206 graduating, so it didn’t take five hours! Of course, it was bright and early at 9:30 am, and we pretty much stayed outside for about 7 hrs, so between the sunny commencement and many games of corn hole, I got a little sunburnt. Not too bad, and thankfully when we got to the birthday party, the hostess made me go inside and get lotion. 

My husband’s and my work schedule has been ridiculously off center this whole week, so there’s been a couple of nights with 3-4 hrs of sleep, and not much of us seeing each other. I hate those weeks. I had today off, and he worked early, so it was super nice to have the whole afternoon and evening together. We finally had to come inside when it got too dark to see our Simpsons edition Uno card game. I am losing spectacularly! Here’s hoping tomorrow I can make a comeback, as we had to stop in the middle of the current round, and it will start with the second reshuffle of the deck in the same round. We have intense Uno battles, but maybe that’s easy to do with only two players! 

Hope everyone has a great weekend, and story tomorrow, promise! 



Story A Day May #12

Okay, so today’s entry is short. Like, short, short. I’m blaming it on my day off laziness, which has come after a day of working in the garden and running errands. And this is in no way tweaked from an actual conversation between me and my husband. Absolutely not.

May 12, 2015

 Second Dinner

             He looked down at the sizzling chicken and rice meal in the stainless steel skillet. Beside him, she did the same.

“That’s a lot of onions,” he said.

“Yup. And a lot of peppers.”

“Lotta peppers.”

“I don’t even know how I could doctor this up.”

“Doctor? You can’t doctor that. You’d have to do surgery.”

“I’m sure I could do some kind of patch job,” he said, sounding diminishingly hopeful.

“No way,” she said. “I’m sure it’s good; it’s just that we don’t like onions and peppers.”

“Nope.”

“It will take me ten minutes to pick out what I don’t like and I’ll have a half-empty burrito and a pile of stuff on my plate that I won’t eat. It’s exhausting.”

“Well, then, you better start making plans for second dinner.”

“Ooooh. We’ve got that gouda-filled ravioli.”

“Sounds great.”


A Gross Way To Start The Day

I haven’t had anything in the Quote Corner category in forever, so here’s the first conversation I had with my husband at 6:30 am. 😃

Tim: I just pulled a ‘you.’
Me: (taking out my earplugs) What?
Tim: I just pulled a ‘you’ and stepped in cat puke.
Me: Oh, thank god.
Tim: Although, I don’t know how I missed it on the way to the bathroom. It’s right in my path.
Me: I don’t know how you always miss it.
Tim: I know.
Me: Well, I’m sad to say that makes me really happy.


A Cautionary Tale

This story is dedicated to my loving and wonderful husband, Tim.

This morning I sat down on the couch to put on my shoes and knocked over both beer bottles sitting on the floor. Only one was empty. The scent of a New Belgium Brewing company (Loft or Blue Paddle, which one I do not know) wafted through the air as a decent-sized puddle formed on the floor. The clank and sound of glug-gluging liquid drew Simon into the living room, little paws bounding up to the edge of the puddle. Like any good parent, I cautioned the five month old away as he stuck his nose in it. A few paper towels took care of the mess, and afterwards Simon lay down in the spot where the beer had been.

The following is what could have happened next. (And probably did in some parallel universe.)

Simon and Karly go off to kitten school, where they meet their friends, and spend time running around, chasing tails and string. One of the other kittens, a worried but well meaning calico by the name of Kitty Miss Princess notices how Simon’s fur smells funny. Kitty Miss Princess knows that smell, and proceeds to tell their teacher, Mrs. Whitepaw all about it.

Mrs. Whitepaw takes Simon to see Mr. Graywhiskers, the principal. They all sit down and the adult cats take turns explaining the inherent dangers and evils of alcohol.

The same afternoon, after our adorable kittens return home, I’ve just got them settled down to dinner when the doorbell rings. To my shock, Mr. Graywhiskers, Mrs. Whitepaw and a strange cat are standing at my door. The principal introduces the stranger as Ms. Fuzzybottom.

Ms. Fuzzybottom carries a tiny wooden clipboard, and a monocle hangs from her collar. She’s one of those squashed nose breeds, so glasses are out of the question for this old cat.

The trio stalks into our home, and while Mr. Graywhiskers explains the reason for their visit, I notice Fuzzybottom is examining all the corners of the room, sniffing the furniture, the floor, the doorframe. She makes marks on the clipboard with her claw. To my shock, she comes up to me, tail swishing angrily, and informs me that she is from KFS: Kitten Family Services, and they are here to investigate a claim of parental neglect.

I frantically explain that we are renovating the house, and I’ve been sanding the mantle, so our coffee table is on the front porch, and how my husband has a bad habit of leaving his bottles and soda cans on the floor next the spot on the couch where he sits. I then drift into a tangent about how the porch is screened, and not street level, so people really can’t see the coffee table so it’s not as white trash as it sounds. I plead with the old, grumpy cat, by saying,

“Please, Mrs. Fuzzybottom, it was just an accident!”

Ms. Fuzzybottom,” she growls. “Consumption of beer by a five-month old kitten is no accident.”

“He didn’t consume it; he laid down in the same spot. The floor was probably still a little damp, so that’s why he smelled like beer.”

However much I pleaded and cried and begged, it was to no avail. Ms. Fuzzybottom had the principal take our tiny kitten away, and promised to come back for another home visit, fearing we would further negatively influence our nine-month old, Karly, and branded me as a ‘Bad Human Parent.’

See what happens? Do you see what happens, Tim? When you don’t take your cans and bottles to the kitchen and put them in the recycling bin, I knock them over and a grumpy, old, squishy-faced cat comes and takes away our kittens.

Image

Siblings from another mother – Karly and Simon. Adorably in the way hogging the bathroom sink while I’m trying to get ready for work. 🙂


We do not have the same taste in Muzak Pt. 2

In the car listening to Cracks (Flux Pavilion Remix) feat. Belle Humble

Me: You didn’t like it, did you?

Tim: We’re never going to listen to that again.

Me: Aaawwww

Tim: You should probably go ahead and delete it.

Me: I just bought it!

Tim: Oh, sweetie, no.

Me: (irritated sigh ensues) Further proving that Jeremy and I are the only ones of our group that like Dubstep.


Quote Day #9

I celebrated my thirty-third birthday this week. Being nine days older than my husband is something he Loves to bring up, especially this time of year. 🙂

 

Me: (with a  tummy-ache on my birthday) You brought me three Tums?? I only need two.

Tim: Yes. It’s a bonus Tums. Besides, a woman your age needs all the calcium she can get.

. . . (chirping crickets in silence) . . .

Me: You can feel the look I’m giving you, right? You don’t need to see it.

Tim: (cackling with laughter from down the hall) Yes!

 

This from the man who when I turned thirty, had the Edible Arrangements people put on the card: You’re not old, you’re ripe.

/facepalm

 

 


Quote Day #8

To alleviate some of the depressingness of my last post, here’s something a bit more lighthearted. The exchange took place today while I was in a grumpy mood and that stupid pillow pet dream lites commercial came on. (Oooo, that song is annoying.) 

Me: Not every kid is afraid of the dark. You’re just making a wimpy kid.

Tim: It’s just a nightlight.

Me: I never had a nightlight! And I was terrified!

Tim: Aaaand there it is.

Me laughing: The root of the problem?

Tim: Yep.


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