*Discovered that sometimes when I'm watching my son's basketball games that I may get a little vocal and loud, oh and competitive, and sometimes sarcastic. So much so that there were a few times at Blade's last tournament game that GI Joe had to "ssssshhhhh" me in order to keep me from getting kicked out of the game. I'm sorry but I was just trying to help the refs out because clearly, THEY NEEDED THEIR EYES CHECKED. I wasn't the only one, our coach actually got a TECHNICAL foul for pointing out a missed call that the ref didn't make. A TECHNICAL FOUL at a 4th grade game?!? Our coach was simply pointing out a blatant call that the ref missed. The ref did not appreciate the feedback, got a little upset and told the coach, "You need to sit down, be quiet, and let me do my job" to which our coach responded calmly (and awesomely), "THEN DO YOUR JOB!" And
*Shortly after this, GI Joe decided he
*This is completely unrelated to the PMobile and any unfortunate incidents involving her but a funny story that will give you a glimpse into the inner workings of GI Joe and I's marriage. On Friday night, I drove to Bethany, MO to meet my sister Heidi to get my niece Savannah for the weekend. I got there before they did so I went to the local farm store (where else would I go?!?) and as luck would have it, it was CHICK DAYS. I live for Chick Days at the farm store. You all know I'm a sucker for animals, especially baby animals, ESPECIALLY baby animals that are fluffy and tiny and chirping. So I sent GI Joe the following text, "I think I'm going to pick up some chicks". After hitting send, I realized that that simple sentence could be easily misinterpreted. Some husbands might be shocked, excited, hopeful even, thinking their wife was picking up chicks of the female kind to bring home to live out some 17 year old boy fantasy. But my husband? He sent back a text that said, "GET OUT OF THE FARM STORE!" Dang, he knows me too well. Sidenote: I did get out of the farm store only to return after getting Savannah and letting her pick out 3 of these, thereby making me MOST FAVORITE AUNT, which was pretty much already established but it never hurts to go above and beyond to further secure the title.
And then we held them on our laps the entire 1.5 hour drive home. Because that's how we roll when you're hanging with the "MOST FAVORITE AUNT".
*While at the farm store picking up "chicks", there was a couple there new to the business of chickens, deliberating over which kind of chicks to get. It was obvious they didn't know much about chickens and were looking for good laying chickens, that laid brown eggs. And would you believe that I, former city girl, farm girl wannabe, actually advised them and filled them in on which breed produces what color of eggs and egg quality? Because I did. And then when the Orscheln man (not to be confused with the Orkin man) came over he confirmed what I had told them and then gave me the knowing nod as one farmer does to another and said, "You must be a chicken farmer." You guys? I think this means I've finally made it! I'm a real farm girl! I think what it really means is that I've actually retained some of what I've learned from all the 4H Poultry meetings with my daughter, the real chicken whisperer and the websites and hatchery magazines we've spent hours looking through. Nonetheless, you have a chicken question? I'm your girl or I'll ask my girl and get back to you.
*I'm NOT your girl, however, if you do not enjoy exploding glass pans of BBQ Meatballs all over your kitchen. We had a potluck at church on Sunday after the morning service. I had slaved away on Saturday night making these and was so excited to finally get to eat them. I brought the dish in before Sunday School and put the pan on the stove for safekeeping until it was time to put them in the oven to bake, chatting away with my friend Trisha, while I turned on the oven to preheat it. We went on our merry way and were talking in the hallway before we got our Sunday School classes underway when we heard a very loud, odd, that-can't-be-good-sound. We went sprinting down the hallway to the kitchen, the direction the sound came from, and discovered BBQ meatballs and shards of glass everywhere, and a shocked young man who was simply getting a drink of water when a pan of meatballs TRIED TO KILL HIM. Luckily, he escaped serious injury. Good thing too because that would've been an awkward lawsuit..."Your honor the victim was assaulted with a pan of bbq meatballs and he has suffered great emotional turmoil and hardship since the incident, the defendant must pay for her crimes!" As for the rest of us, we spent the majority of Sunday School cleaning up a meatbally mess. The church kitchen hasn't seen that much action since Trisha's Great Pizza Incident of 2011. As it turns out I had NOT turned the oven on but I HAD turned on the burner that I had set the glass pan on. Note to self: Glass pans on electric burners=disaster. Then later that same afternoon, I dropped a jar of pizza sauce in the aisle at Wal Mart. Because, you know, you just can't have too much broken glass and red sauce splattered everywhere in a single day.
*And this has nothing to do with anything, but many people (or two) have asked about Holy Cow's wellbeing since I haven't talked much about him or shown a picture of him lately. Not to worry he's alive and well, except for a severe case of mistaken identity wherein he thinks he's a dog. He's still the bovine love of my life. Also, he has a horn appointment next Monday where he'll be getting highlights and a cut/style. OK, so not really on the highlights but he will be getting a cut, as in his horns cut off. We had used some dehorning paste when he was a baby that was supposed to prevent them from coming in but as you can see he's a regular Texas longhorn now with these bad boys. Unfortunately, he doesn't use his horns for the greater good, instead he uses them to put gigantic bruises on your thighs because he just wants to be pet (or is it petted? I never know). But the horns? They gots to go. But he'll still be large and in charge even sans horns.
Is it weird that I'm going to print this picture to hang in my office at work? You're right, I didn't think so either.
Be sure to check back tomorrow for Food Friday. FOUR WEEKS IN A ROW?!? The apocalypse is definitely coming!!!