This post is completely random, but hopefully something will help perk up your Monday.
Recently, we moved from a suburb of a city out to the country where there is a rather large lawn that needs to be kept nice. Well, my husband has always envied the mower Tom Hanks uses in Forrest Gump so…with tons of help, I found a Snapper riding lawn mower with handle bars about thirty miles away. It was cheap enough that I didn’t hesitate, and then had to take it to a lawn mower repair shop in another city where I told the guy running the shop, “Pimp my mower!”
It got a new paint job, new stickers, a new seat and gas tank, four new tires, the rust was cleaned up, the blades replaced and the engine tuned up, all for less than 1/3rd of a new one! On Christmas Day, the friend who conspired with me to make this all possible, brought it over and I made my husband dress like Forrest Gump with some solid white tennis shoes and a shirt that buttons to the neck (which you can’t see), to go see the “scratch” our friend got on the side of the truck while borrowing it!
Anyway, this is him driving it up the driveway and to the garage:
Yes, he is that tall that when he sits down, his pants come up a little further than he might like. LOL
A friend of mine who used to help me out around the house, knew I had a fascination with grapes and made me this for Christmas:
One of my proofreaders sent me this for Christmas–to which my husband immediately became jealous, claiming she’d trumped him and his Gone With the Wind Plates:
I snapped the next picture while at Wal-Mart a few weeks ago, see if you can catch the irony:
The following I took while driving around Tulsa one day. I’m disturbed on more than one level…
Honestly the 1% gas frightens me more than the misspelling of duty. Just sayin’.
I never know what to expect when my husband sends me a text. Some days it’s of a rooster strutting across the sign at Sonic:
Then of course, there is my husband who has decided our dog (Sir Rhett) needs to ride on his bicycle with him and bought him a pair of “doggles”:
My personal favorite set of photos are as follows. But first a bit of backstory again. A few weeks ago, during my 12 Days of Christmas, I asked for favorite or bizarre terms used in historical romance. I had someone comment with globes as a term for breasts. I have to admit that this has given me a whole new perspective when I walk through my front door every day and see this:
Whoever built this house decided to put two “globes” down on the stained concrete in the entryway. As bizarre as it sounds, this was one of my favorite aspects of the house and a huge selling point for me. Now, all I can think of when I walk through the front door is a pair of giant breasts. And if that’s not enough, my mother decided to buy me a new bra not so long ago, and sent me the following picture to show me what it looked like:
And if none of those got you to crack a smile, perhaps this will.
About a week and a half ago, I was on the phone with my sons’ 50-something year old kindergarten teacher. I’d called her about an upcoming event or something when she burst out with, “Oh, while I have you on the phone, I have to tell you what Henry said in class yesterday.”
Immediately the air left my lungs and I gulped in as much as I could. Nothing ever good comes from these types of conversations, hence the story about “Who is this Earl fellow Eddie keeps talking about” from last year. So all I can do is sit and pray this isn’t that bad.
“Yesterday, we were taking prayer requests when Henry’s hand shot up. Then, as soon as I called on him, he shouted, ‘I want to pray for our dog because he’s getting his balls chopped of today!'”
At first, I was mortified my son was talking that way at school, but my own mortification soon faded into laughing hysterically as the teacher kept going on and on about how hard she had to try not to laugh at his outburst. There’s just something hysterically funny about an older teacher thinking that was funny and reciting it back to me word for word of what he’d said! Gotta love boys and you certainly have to admire kindergarten teachers. They are a different breed entirely–and what a wonderful breed they are!