Saturday, February 11, 2012

Day 151

Public Service Announcement Regarding Cabbage Soup:

Don't do it.

Or at least, don't do it if you need to go out in public any time after ingesting it.

I made a rather large amount of cabbage soup, known as the zero point soup on the weight watchers diet. Because you may remember that I'm trying to find my bones underneath the generous layer of adipose tissue I've cushioned them with.
I made the soup on Thursday, ate some for dinner that evening, and then went to church.

Yes, I go to church on Thursday nights. It's a little strange I admit, but it's about 100% awesome to have a second sleep-in day on the weekend.
And it's the only service our church offers in our town; the other ones are at the main campus 25 minutes from here.
So now you know.

And you might have also guessed that I was a wee bit uncomfortable in the intestinal area during the service.
I was. I managed to hold back until I got safely into the confines of my home.

Losing weight stinks.
Quite literally, in this case.

So today I craigslisted the glider that we got when Derek was a baby. He's too old for a rocking chair in his room these days, so I thought I would do what my husband suggested and try to get rid of something a little bigger.

Do you know what he said when I told him I sold it?
"But that was a really comfy chair; it was good for reading."

I can't win.

Want to hear a conversation I had in Ghetto Burger King the other day?

(Ghetto Burger King refers to one particular BK in our town that seems to attract the dregs of society, has terrible food, and shady service. But we go there anyway, because it has a big 'ole playplace that's always empty. Probably because of the other things I mentioned about this restaurant.)

Don't worry, I didn't eat there. Just my children.

As I'm getting a drink refill before leaving, a rather large man with very dark sunglasses approached me and said this:

I have to tell you something. I'm not sure if it's God that wants me to tell you this, or if it's the devil. But are you in the Air Force? Is your husband in the Air Force?
Well I just have to tell you that you are a very beautiful woman. 

This conversation was brought to you in part by, This is why I go to Ghetto Burger King with a group, and Kids get in the van and lock the doors.

Also, what does the Air Force have to do with what he felt he needed to tell me? Not sure.
And, I kind of like that guy.

But not as much as I like this guy:

And while things have really gone smoothly up until now, I have to say that I'm kind of over this deployment now and I really, really, really want my husband home.

The next 6-8 weeks can't go fast enough.

Hurry home, my love.
Oh, and bring the holster...


That last comment was for my sister in law, who thinks I put too many racy things in my blog posts.
(She's right.)


Sandy said...

i hope that holster comes with a gas mask :0)

Grandma said...

How could you sell his chair? He is a Schore. He needs to rock. Always. Forever.

Joyce said...

I think the cabbage soup story cancels out the racy : )