Two boxes of tissues in less than two days, and no signs of it slowing down.
Did you know there are directions on those Halls Mentho-Lyptus drops? One every two hours. Ooops.
But really, that’s not what I came here to tell you about today. I came here to tell you about my hot date with McH last Friday.
I almost titled this post: More Proof That I Married Edward.
First, I should probably tell you, we did not go out for Italian, and there was no mushroom ravioli involved.
We did, however, go see the latest X-Men movie. H-H-hot! There is just nothing quite like Hugh Jackman all Wolverined-out, walking around in a wife-beater. (See? I said HOT date with my husband. Where did you think I was going to go with that?)
After the movie we were going to a church activity for just adults (which is so nice because as much as I do like the kidlets, I also like adult conversation that isn’t interrupted every 5.7 seconds by somebody needing a clean diaper, help with their plate of food, a referee for an argument, a band aid, a reprimand, etc.), so we decided to swing by the local KFC for some quick chicken.
I mean, really, why else would you swing by the local KFC?
Actually, I was just shocked and grateful that there was a local KFC in that small town 30 minutes north of our Tiny Town. I mean, really, a movie theater and a KFC? It’s almost like being back in civilization.
And yes, there was food at the church activity, but it was a picnic theme, and what is more picnic than Kentucky Fried Chicken? Really? So that was our contribution.
We went through the drive through (or thru, if you’re into that annoying spelling of the word) (though it arguably does make more sense than through), placed our order, and then pulled up to the window. The Kentucky Fried Chick took McH’s credit card, asked if we wanted any sauce with our chicken strips, and then? She just gazed at him.
He said, “No thank you,” and she continued to lean out the window, speechless, gazing, gawking.
I was just about ready to lean over and stick my tongue down his throat when she came to her senses (oh how embarrassed she was) and mumbled, “Umm, sorry. Umm, sauce? Did you want sauce?”
I could see every impure thought as if it were painted on her forehead.
McH once again said no thank you, and she retreated to swipe the card.
“You dazzled her,” I said.
“Yeah, right,” he said.
But it’s true, he did. And? He knew it.
Oh how fun it is going to be to hang out on a beach with him this summer.
Did I say I need to loose 10 pounds? Let’s make that 20.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.