Unamused: adjective describing my wife yesterday. My stepson and his soon-to-be-introduced-to-us girlfriend were coming over to dine with us. Unbeknownst to my wife, I had strategically and prankishly placed a pair of my clean underwear on top of the front door wreath. Sort of like an ice-breaker? In my defense, in some small way it was a logical thing to do, as people generally fail to notice dust on the furniture or unswept floors when confronted with intimate apparel on the main house door. It is sort of like when I put on a kettle of sauerkraut before visitors come over; by doing this, I can mask all the other weird house smells and simultaneously invoke the rule that visitors can’t openly be contemptuous of one’s food choices, no matter how putrid the stench might be. Shockingly, my prank failed to earn the equivalent of an Academy Award for Great Ideas.
PS: If you need to reduce your guest’s expectations, another good tip is to announce that you’ve made cake and ice cream for dessert. After dinner, place a full fruitcake in the middle of the table, accompanied by the herpes of ice cream delicacies, mint chocolate chip ice cream. While I love fruitcake, mint chocolate chip ice cream is diabolical and in either case, it is likely that there is not one person crazy enough on the entire planet who likes both fruitcake and mint chocolate chip ice cream.
(This post brought to you by Good HouseCreeping.)
This picture is unrelated: after eating at the delicious Panda Express in Springdale yesterday (5 stars of deliciousness, by the way), I drove the loop behind the retail center near I-49, assuming it would indeed loop. Instead, the road simply ended in a foliage-infested roadway. It was far more interesting than my description might make it seem.
This is either a picture of an impending drug deal, or one of my sister-in-law and wife arriving for some delicious Mexican food several days ago. I’ll let you choose.
I wanted to post this example of the type of weirdness that seems to surround me, even while “working.”
Dawn made me buy my own “time-out” bench. The increasingly cold weather hasn’t swayed her one iota in making me use it two or three times daily.
Taken at our last house. The cat is sleeping like a failed gymnast because he’s tired, not because of Dawn’s foot proximity. FYI.