So, yesterday was Davey Pooh's birthday. He turned 27. He gets sexier and sexier with each year that passes. And 27 is one of my favorite numbers because 2 + 7 = 9 and 9 IS my favorite number (well, tied with 3...but 3 x 3 = 9, so six of one half dozen of the other) and yes, I'm a crazy person and I have OCD tendencies and that numbers thing is one of them. Anyways. Being the super cool wife that I am, I got him a bag filled with a bunch of silly stuff like a miniature pool table and basketball goal, a toboggan (he's been wanting one), this really cool umbrella (that I may steal later), some CD's he'd been wanting and some other stuff. Then, his big present was that he had to decide between a BBQ smoker or spend half of the money on Wii products and half at Barnes & Noble's. He hasn't decided yet. I told him he could spend the money on me and buy me some shoes, but for some odd reason, he said "no" to that idea. Last night, we had supper together (first time since January cuz of dumb tax season) and we played some video games...a.k.a. I dominated his Mii into the virtual reality of destroyance. That makes no sense. We played Smash Brothers, which I am horrible at. I only like one character, Pit. I'm awesome at Pit. I don't play against him because it's no fun for me when I always lose and it can't be any fun for him to always win. Well, it might be, I dunno, but I refuse to do it, so. Then we played some Wii baseball and boxing. Funny how the simplest games can make you laugh so hard. It's ridiculous. Since it was a work day, we're going to celebrate with friends at a game night on Friday. We're introducing a new game...they're gonna love it. We're having to rent an auger, a goat, two lampshades and 30 pounds of cheese, but it's going to be worth it.
We still have some snow in our yard...well, what's left of Buddy, the snowman. The compactness of his bottom made him stick around for a little longer than his fallen comrades. And we love our neighbors and their kids, but apparently, if it snows, OUR yard is THEIR yard. I hear Seumas barking in the back yard and Blue growling in the bedroom and I look and see our neighbors' kids beating Buddy's bottom with a baseball bat. I TOTALLY did not plan for the alliteration...it just happened. And I'm thinking, "I don't go into their yard and kill their beloved snow friends." But whatevs. Fence.
I went to a baby shower for my dear friend, Tris, this past Saturday. It was wonderful. The hostesses did such a great job. We played a game I'd never played before at a baby shower. You paired up in teams of two and there was this huge basket filled with baby socks...all colors and sizes. You had two minutes to match up and fold as many socks as you could. My teammate, Malinda, and I rocked it. We didn't win, but I was proud of us. I never realized how good at folding socks I was...and then I realized that was a skill that would get me nowhere in this life. Except All-Star Heavyweight Champion of Sock Folding at baby showers. Another game we played was a game that lasted the whole shower. When we walked in, we received a necklace and instructions, "Put this on and if you hear someone say the word "cute" during the shower, you can take their necklace. If you say "cute," someone can take your necklace. Whoever has the most necklaces at the end, wins." To which I replied, "Cute!" Like, never even hit me that I said it. I never realized how much girls say "cute." It was a tough game. We went with "precious," "sweet," and just regular "awww's." I obviously did not win.
Everyone needs to go YouTube "Bizkit the sleepwalking dog." No, she's not having a seizure, she is sleepwalking...running. It will make you wet your pants, so have a spare pair ready.
I was in a public restroom earlier this week and it was one of the one-stall ones. I was washing my hands and I hear this rattle rattle WHAM! I honestly think the person thought it was unlocked and that they'd walk right in and face planted into the door. I'm sure there's a face grease smudge on the outside. Anyways. I'm like, "Somebody's in here." I unlock the door and walk out and there's this lady there looking at me like it's MY fault that I'm in the bathroom and she said, "Oh, you scared me." I scared you? The locked door frightened you? Because when a bathroom door is locked, it's the most horrendous event in the universe? And stop staring at me, creep. It was weird. She hit the door too hard, I think.
The weather man says 72 for this weekend. I'm not believing him until I see it for myself. They just read a prompter. They don't even know what they're saying half the time. Front? What's a front, Sue? Did they ask the stratosphere what clouds it would be producing this weekend? No. I hope it'll be 72. Then I can walk outside and not be angry.
You guys and gals have a wonderful day!