I love you, Tom. You mean everything to me. You’re my person, my rock, my home, my ollyollyoxenfree and you will be forevermore.
Happy Thanksgiving from me and mine to you and yours!
On 7/8/2016, Tom, my friends and I got to meet our favorite author. We were almost last in line (on purpose; see also: anxiety issues) and got to get our books signed, and talk with Jenny. Tom got his Rory card signed and I gave Jenny the Knitted Knaughties. If you don’t know about these, you’ll have to put that in my search box and enjoy a really good story about Jenny matchmaking me (in Iowa) and Louise (in New Zealand; see also: possible place to move if Trump becomes President, because if so, I’m Audi, dude) to come up with a knitted vagina and penis to show women where to find their clitoris in a totally non-skeevy way. Seriously; some women have to be shown. My sons learned a lot from this pair, and to their future wives, I say, “You. Are. Welcome.”
That was kind of a long stream of consciousness type of ramble, and I blame my phone. So I’ll just tack on the pictures and call it good.
And they all checked one thing off their bucket list and lived happily ever after. Amen.
This is a very real Saturday morning for us.
(Scene: All Asbee’s are watching a DVD together. And no one is abusing each other. Go figure.)
young son, Mika: Mom, what’s ‘ironic’ mean?
Dory: *thinks about it a moment* Well, it’s kind of hard to explain. … It’s like, when you’re working at your job, and there’s a “No Smoking” sign on the wall when you take your cigarette break.
Mika: *completely confused and bewildered*
Tom: Son, it’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.
Mika: You are both. SO. WEIRD.
Dory: My laptop’s open. Dictionary.com is your friend.
Tom: While you’re at it, look up ‘weird’ and see if our picture is up there.
Our children are going to be SO warped.
(FYI… I used to use the name The Dinosaur, or Dino, for the younger son. 1- He’s no longer obsessed with dinosaurs and memorizing entire encyclopedias on The Jurassic Period. 2- I also gave the sons weird names so people can’t google them later and find them here. So I’ll just misspell their names instead from now on. Plus, I never use our real last name on here because I don’t want The GirlBeater googling back here.)