Wow, has it been a week already? I bet you have been counting the days until my usual Friday gratefulness. Time flies when one is having the time of her life doing laundry, washing dishes, preparing meals, being the taxi driver, cleaning and entertaining 12 year old boys who like to make strange farting sounds.
If I met the enemy right now, and they said, “We’ll happily entertain your son and his friends for a day if you just tell us.”
“My social security number is 523- …. and the Federal Reserve Bank is located at…”
Yeah, I’d cave THAT easy.
Which is why I am grateful for
Norwegian friends who show up from afar with wine, knock on my door and proclaim, “Hi. Let’s take our dogs to the beach and watch the sun set.”
No kids.
Wow, it’s enough to make me think about becoming a lesbian.
Which also makes me grateful that,
I am not dating, now, or in the future, any guy that dawns a garbage bag, kicks a basketball (on the beach) as a part of a team with their arms tied and calls it a game.
Just exactly how high does a guy have to be to do this?
Wow, it’s enough to make me think about becoming a lesbian.
Which makes me grateful that,
I am not dating guys who climb the rocks and body surf (in clothes) in the number one killer rip tide spot in Northern California. The water is a lovely 55 degrees. But hey, they passed their grade school “I can swim the length of the pool” swimming class… 20 years ago.
Just exactly how high drunk does a guy have to be to do this?
Probably like some guys here who decide to dawn wet suits, get into the Northern California Pacific ocean to resemble Matthew McConaughey baby seals. To quote Forbes Traveler’s article on the 10 Most Shark Infested Beaches in World:
“To compile a list of the most shark-dangerous beaches also means going to waters that are home to these three ocean predators. We find ourselves in the seal-rich waters of Northern California, in an area known as the “Red Triangle…red for blood.”
Just exactly how high does a guy have to be to do this?
Another reason to make me think about becoming a lesbian.
Which makes me grateful that
I do live a 30 minute drive from the beautiful Pacific ocean, and I don’t do abalone diving or surfing in my freezer the Northern Pacific ocean.
And I am grateful that,
It’s the beginning of my birthday week.
Yes, I was born on the 4th of July, and that, my friends should explain everything.
Where’s my bottle of wine?
Lastly, I am always most grateful for
Boonie the dog.
Oh wait, I mean,
Brian.
Until next time-
C
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Does this toast look burned to you? See that tiny bit of black on the left side? (Get out your magnifying glass). That qualifies as “kid-burnt icky” and ruins the other 90% of the toast. Ok, lets just be reminded that Brian doesn’t eat crusts of bread, so why do we even care if the crust resembles a used candle wick? Ummmm, because that is using logical thinking and there’s no logical thinking allowed when it comes to kids – stop using logic or you will end up with a lifetime prescription of Prozac.
you burn the skin of the barbecue chicken. If you dare peal the skin off to save yourself from hearing the whine, “Iiiiiiiittttttttt’ssssss burned mom!” you will get the other whine, “Where’s the skin?? It’s my favorite part!” The dog will eat burned chicken skin though…
dog bun with catchup only (no mustard – remember mustard is a toxin) and feeding the burned hot dog to the dog, the cat, the bird – any moving creature that will take that burned thing away from them NOW. Brian will just resort to eating chips.
“It was just ok. It was a little burned though.”
