Unfortunately, I don’t remember what it was.
Last week, something very funny happened, and I knew I needed to blog about it so you could all share in my laugh. But I was on my way to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving. I gave myself strict instructions to write a note to myself so I could blog about it this week. But I promptly ignored my instructions. This was too funny to forget, I thought.
It just happened last week! I’ve gone through my week time and time again trying to remember, but alas, it’s gone. A shame, because I’m pretty sure it was something silly I did that we could all get a good chuckle from.
Last night, while watching a Hallmark Christmas movie on CBS (my movie and music standards drop significantly when it comes to Christmas), I realized the perfect job for me: a Christmas tree farmer. I’d care for each tree like it was my own, naming it, grooming it. And when the time came, I’d help each family find their perfect tree. People would come from many states because of my reputation. I’d also always have hot wassail available.
Except maybe I’d drink all the wassail. I consumed almost an entire pot by myself on Saturday.
(For those of you who don’t remember, I have four trees every year–three fake ones and a real one. I name them all. This year, I almost got a fourth fake tree to add to the collection when my sister-in-law told me about a crazy $30 sale on prelit trees, but they were sold out.)
I ventured out on Black Friday this year. But it doesn’t really count because, as I mentioned afore, we were at my parents’ house. They live in a smallish town, so Black Friday isn’t crazy like Dallas. This is why I had to go: my dad and husband decided to go to Best Buy.
Have you seen my husband at Best Buy or Fry’s? Dangerous.
So I went to keep an eye on them. Next door, Shoe Carnival was having a buy-1-get-1-half-off sale.
"Don’t you need new shoes?" I asked Chris.
So we went in. This really isn’t that significant except two things struck me as minorly funny.
One, Chris didn’t get any shoes. My dad and I walked out with a pair each, though. While there, I remembered that I don’t have winter black shoes. So I bought a pair of black comfy Sketchers.
Which brings us to minor funny number two.
"Those are winter shoes?" Chris said. "And you say you’re from the northeast." (He’s from Colorado.)
"I’m contextualizing for Texas. In Texas, winter shoes are non-flipflops." Although, really, sometimes you can wear flipflops in Texas in winter. At least I do.
I don’t know why that struck me as funny, but it did. Also, I love Sketchers. I can’t help myself. They’re so comfy!
I’ve always had weird dreams, often involving serial killers (I’ve chased serial killers, been chased by serial killers, been a serial killer, etc.). Now these weird dreams are taking a turn for the pregnancy. A couple of weeks ago, I dreamed that my belly button popped out exactly like a turkey timer–long and T-shaped and all. I kept trying to push it back in because I’m only six months pregnant and so obviously not done yet.
Two nights ago, I dreamed that I could take the baby out of my tummy and put him back in. Like a kangeroo. It was very convenient.