About me: I'm 40 and eight months pregnant. My husband Chuck, our 7-year-old Junior, our 4-year-old Everette and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.
Monday, February 9, 2009
I'm not regifting, I'm regenerating love
Lookie, lookie what I found next to the laundry detergent: an unopened box of Chocoholics’ chocolate “tattoo set” given to me by my mother, pre-Junior.*
How it came to reside in the laundry room, I have no clue, but it sure is a stroke of luck. The heat from the dryer has probably kept the jars’ contents from getting cold and crackly, which means I can whisk this gem right into Valentine’s Day 2009 and no one will be the wiser.
Yes! Think of all the post-IKEA fun I can have “tattooing” words on Chuck’s backside. Phrases like “let’s not make another” and “thank God for birth control.”
Or maybe, like the box suggests, I’ll use the “provocative” enclosed stencil sheet to write chocolately instructions on my lover (Chuck, that's you). Instructions like “Let’s go to sleep instead” or “Brush your teeth again, please, we had garlic for dinner!”
I'm kidding. Of course. I don't know how to cook with garlic.
*The woman wanted a grandchild, what can I say? That same year for Christmas, she gave Chuck this:
It also mysteriously ended up in the laundry room...