Every weekend just keeps getting better and better as life goes on. This one was primarily spent resting and trying to recover from little Jella's traumatic week. We're all feeling better now! So here are the lessons I learned this weekend.
1) After kids, no more kissing. Ever. No matter what. Babies have a 6th sense or something that enables them to feel when their parents begin to kiss. They then begin to whine and cry as if something is wrong. Upon picking them up to comfort them, the babies inevitably give you the smile that says, "gotcha." Or maybe this just happens to me.
2) I love root beer. I mean really love root beer. A&W is the best, along with Brick Oven (although BO could use a little more carbonation). It's just so good. Nothing better.
3) On Sundays, if channel-surfing between KBYU, BYU-TV and Animal Planet you come across a World Series game in the bottom of the 9th, the Lord will forgive you for just watching that half-inning. 30 seconds after I changed the channel, Scott Podsednik hit a walk-off home run. In a World Series. And I missed it. But don't worry, it happens all the time. Jeez.
Have a fabulous day! P.S. There's more pics of Jella in the album.
6 comments:
Yeah...the part about BO could use a little more carbonation gave me this image of bubbles coming out of a fat man's armpit. Thanks for that.
Root beer in the frosty mug at an A&W restaurant is delicious. I'm not fond of it in a can.
The Sox have won 12 of their last 13 games, including the one last night in the longest World Series game ever (14th inning, 5+ hours).
Go Sox!
Cicada: I was thinking of spelling Brick Oven out again, but the smelly fat man in my own mind was too funny.
79: That game last night was crazy. When I turned it on it was in the 10th, and I promised myself to not change the channel or go to be 'til it was over. Luckly, Jella refused to sleep so I couldn't have gone to bed anyway.
I, not unlike a baby, also begin to whine when I sense people kissing in the room. Maybe it's an X-men power. I am now Freethelipsman! (Not to be confused with Frieda Lippman.)
Limon: Not just in the room, my man. In the house. The house I tell you.
Kissing story: DB and I were kissing the other day, and Lola started to have her usual fit. Because it's gross. (Real reason: I'm jealous that you aren't paying attention to me, even though I am eleven years old and completely engrossed in another activity right now.) I said, "Hey, it could be worse. Your parents could hate each other."
She shot straight back with, "My parents DO hate each other!"
Good point, Lola. Good point.
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