Friday, August 26, 2005

Premium Seats

Oh no, it's time to confess. I don't do this to relieve my conscience. I do this because someone is forcing my hand.

There are times when I can be quite entertaining. Well, I think I'm entertaining. I make up words. I make up songs. I tease. I laugh. And when my husband gives me "the look," I just smile and say "you know you love me."

I don't know what was in the air yesterday, but I was in prime form. I found everything funny. As Rick and I drove to and from his doctor appointment I proceeded to share all sorts of hilarious things. I thought I was quite witty. I might have gone too far though....

See I've been reading The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks. It's a beautiful love story that really makes you think about and appreciate all the little things about those you love. It's a little predictable, but very good. On the back of the book is a big picture of the writer. After watching me with my nose in the book at various times over the last few days, Rick happened to mention that he wished I'd hurry up and finish the book because he was tired of the guy on the back of the book staring at him.

I found this to be hilarious.

I have taken to pointing the book at him....often. I just point the back of the book at him and wait for him to notice. Sometimes the book will follow him around the house. Yesterday, in the car, the book kept um, joining our conversations. The guy wanted to see what was going on.

I think maybe I went too far.

Hubby says he's starting a blog.

He plans to share my wit with the world.

He said he's going to call it something like the random ravings of a lunatic mind. I think I might be afraid.

It was while I was in this particularly witty mood that I stumbled across this.....
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Apparently they've upgraded the local ball fields. There's another option besides bleacher seating.

I had to beg Josh to take a picture of it for me (I didn't have my camera). You would think he would be more grateful. If I'm blogging about couches next to a ball field, I'm not blogging about him.... or scrapbooking him.....
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