Quote:
Um, I'm assuming this has something to do with a phone?
[from the last person on earth who does not have a cell phone]
Yup, from a cell phone. My mom's purse used to call me all the time until I taught her about key-lock. So fun to listen to her pawing around her purse for exact change while she ordered tea from fast food joints
"Hello?"
"Hi Mom."
"Hi Lori, what's up??"
"You tell me, your purse just called. Is the tea good?"
"Oh. Sorry. Yes, its good (or no, I sent it back they'd left the bags in too long / they didn't wash the urn correctly / they gave me sweet tea by mistake)."
Mom's a tea snob, by the way.
Sorry I missed you Buffy. Hope you have a great day and return tomorrow refreshed and ready to play nicely with others
Except us, of course. We expect you to be mean and run with scissors....
Batty, tell Ms Nutsy Horselady that what she actually ordered online was a photo of a cool saddle, and was sent an actual saddle by mistake. She must return the actual saddle before you'll send her the cool photo. Sometimes you gotta show the nuts who's nuts are bigger. I think you're just the woman for that job.
Beth, I tell people all the time that I won the lottery. Just when they start to get excited I admit that I forgot to buy the ticket, though. They never know whether to laugh or be sad for me.
So yesterday I had to go to the store and buy an envelope to send sis-in-law her frickin' cross stitch books in. I made the mistake of asking DH if he needed anything from the store. He asked for orange slices (nasty gummy candy from his childhood that he craves). I tried to refuse but he made puppy eyes and said he hadn't had any in a month.
I'm at the store, standing in the candy aisle because of him, and I realize I simultaneously want one of everything but none of it is good enough. Uh-oh, Aunt Flo must be on the way. I do a little math in my head (much easier than chicken math which requirtes graph paper these days) and realize that yes, Aunt Flo is due to arrive any moment. Yay rah. So I get a bag of fun-size bars, a larger bar to eat on the way home, and some cookies as well as DH's #%@&*# orange slices. I pay for the goods (yes I remembered the envelope for the frickin' books) and carry the stuff to my car. I tear into the candy bar and snarf down a square of chocolatey goodness studded with macadamia nuts. I am reading about how the bar is actually 3 servings at 210 calaries for serving when I realize I'm being watched. Some cute dude is parked in front of me, watching me simultaneously be overjoyed (flavor) and disgusted (here comes the 10 pounds I lost). I smile and drive away.
I realize 2 things on the way home:
1) If DH says "Honey, there'll be more of you to love" he'll end up with a Fun-size Baby Ruth up his nose.
2) Fun-size candy bar insertion is a pre-menstruated crime and therefor NOT a pre-meditated crime. I can't see any jury arguing against that, especially if there is a woman on the jury.
There Buffy. Catch up onthis thread now that I've written a book. Ha!
