charlie!

weird kids

Over at To Know Me is to Love Me, my cousin blogged about some odd things she did as a child.  I was already thinking about telling you all this, so I will go ahead and tell you now.

I used to eat dog food.  Not the canned kind - that's disgusting.  But I ate the dry kind and also cat food.  Cat food is a bit better than dog food.  

So, we had a neighbor boy and I decided I should marry him when we grew up.  I was probably about five or six at the time.  Anyway, he wasn't much interested in marrying me so I had to bribe him.  I told him if he would marry me, I would bring him some candy.  Well, we never had candy around that I can remember.  So I would come back out and tell him we were out of candy and give him a handful of dog food instead and we would sit there, each on our own side of the fence, crunching on dog food.  It seems that this same scenario played out more than once, so he must not have been real bright, but he was all I had.  And also, I used the same technique to get him to promise that we could live on a farm when we got married.  I was quite pleased with myself snagging a husband in the first grade.

I also used to lick our pony's salt block - yummm.  And I sampled the chicken food, and the pony's oats and her hay and probably the rabbit food, too, but I don't recall.  I just loved trips to the feed store!  LOL  And sadly, this was when I was a few years older.

I don't eat that stuff anymore, but every now and then, walking through the dog food section...

hey there

At nearly nine months pregnant during the dog days of summer, it was all I could do to go to the grocery store.  One particular time, my husband went with me to help.  After wandering the aisles choosing all that we needed, I was desperate for a break.  I found a bench near the exit where I waited while my husband stood in line to pay.

I looked at my peachy colored dress that was large on even my girth.  It wasn’t beautiful, but it sure was comfortable.  I had reached the point in pregnancy where I no longer cared how large I looked and I had given up on trying to look attractive in any way in the sweltering July heat.  I felt huge, melted and tired.

As I rested my tired feet I saw my husband coming from the cash register pushing the cart with bagged groceries.  As he drew near me, I leapt up and joined him (maybe leapt isn't the right word). I began jabbering to him about our purchases and looked into the bags in the cart as we walked toward the exit.  I noticed a couple of new things and wondered if he had left the line to pick them up.

“When did you get these?” and   “Why did you get that?” and “Where is the rest of our stuff?” I asked.  Then with a funny tingling sensation I realized this wasn’t our cart!  He must have grabbed the wrong one at the end of the checkout area. 

I drew in a sharp breath and said, “Wait, this isn’t our stuff.”  I looked up to see his reaction and to my horror found that this wasn’t my husband!  A strange man with coloring similar to my husband was looking at me with wide eyes and mouth agape.  He hadn’t had a chance to get a word in, but had continued walking; no doubt in an attempt to escape the babbling, scary pregnant lady who had claimed him.

I stopped in my tracks to look behind me and there stood my husband at the cash register looking at me with quite the bemused expression.  I quickly mumbled my apologies and waddled away as quickly as I could in the direction of my real husband.

I will never forget the supermarket matrimony mistake and I imagine somewhere in the world there is a dark haired man who will never forget it, either. 

aloha

Here's something entertaining.  We watched this at our Glen Eyrie conference.  I think every writer should have one of these.

this just in

My hubby called me from Panera to let me know the havoc people are reporting that has been caused by the Daylight Saving time change.

Apparently, one person is concerned about their grass being dried out by the extra sunlight.

Another one noticed that their hens haven't been laying.

I just don't know what to say, folks.  I knew this was a bad thing.

mr. bean

A little British Christmas humour for your weekend.