So, we had a pretty low-key Mother’s Day ’round these parts. I got a stuffed shirt from Fred (and the kitties), which is much cuter in person than it is in that link, and a pomegranate and sweet orange candle from the spud, who knows the way to her momma’s heart. I was also supposed to get flowers, but when they hadn’t arrived by Saturday afternoon, Fred called the place from whence he’d ordered them, and found that he’d apparently entered the wrong date when placing the order, and they were scheduled to be delivered this Friday, the 17th. Which is after Mother’s Day is long past, y’know. So he rescheduled them to be delivered on Tuesday, and I’ll have a good week to admire and enjoy them before we leave for Gatlinburg next Thursday.
Whee!
After I exercised Sunday morning, Fred was having a craving for various kinds of fresh fruit (freak), so we drove to a farmer’s market in Huntsville and bought a buttload of stuff – collard greens (no, not a fruit. I know that.), cantaloupe, grapes, uh… and some other stuff, I don’t remember what. On the way home we stopped at Target so he could get some strawberries and I could grab a package o’ sushi for lunch, and he also bought a couple of kiwi (kiwis?) and a round watermelon, which was just cute as a button.
When we got home, he made the fruit salad and tore up the collard greens while I lounged on the couch and read.
What? It was Mother’s Day! Momma don’t do food-related or cleaning-related stuff on Mother’s Day!
Eventually, I sat down and ate lunch, which consisted of my sushi (california roll), fruit salad, and romaine salad. I was almost done eating, when I looked down into the little tray where my sushi had been. Oh, look! I thought stupidly to myself. It’s a little blop of guacamole! I like guacamole!
Fred reminded me later that guacamole is MEXICAN food, and not generally found with sushi.
I grabbed a big blob of the guacamole and popped it in my mouth.
Hm… didn’t really taste like guaca- HOLY SHIT! MY MOUTH! MY MOUTH WAS BURNING LIKE SOMEONE HAD THROWN A MATCH IN THERE!
It was not, unfortunately guacamole. It was green horseradish (also known as wasabi). Luckily, my mouth didn’t burn for long.
I’m such a dumbass.
Because I am in the throes of PMS, I couldn’t get to sleep last night. I finished reading Shopaholic Takes Manhattan, which I liked, but found rather irritating at points. Of course, that could have been due to the PMS.
When I still hadn’t fallen asleep by midnight, I hauled my ass out of bed and started cleaning out the closet, which I’ve been meaning to do for ages now. I came up with a large armload of clothes to get rid of, and another armload for the giveaway (y’all like cheap, barely-used t-shirts, right?)(note to self: stop buying t-shirts without trying them on, bitch!). I also moved the ironing board so that it was on the wall at the end of the closet, rather than the wall at the side of the closet, which confused Fred and made him turn the closet light on so that it was shining blindingly into my eyeballs at some ungodly hour this morning.
I also moved my sweaters to a shelf in the guest bedroom, as well as the thousand and three bags and purses I had laying on the closet floor.
Fancypants, who likes to hang out in a corner of the closet (come out of the closet, Fancypants!), was disturbed and distraught by the changes I’d made to his hideaway (it was still there, but there weren’t clothes hanging over his spot anymore), and so he swished back and forth, meowing mournfully. I half-expected that come this morning I’d find a big pile o’ poo to show his displeasure, but so far, so good.
The spud is being "honored" for having maintained all As and Bs on her report card this year, so we get to go to the PTA meeting tomorrow night and watch them present her (along with all the other all-As/ all-As&Bs kids) with a piece of paper that she will surely want to frame and hang on her already-crowded wall. And then on Thursday, there’s a band concert she’s playing in. That means TWO nights I’ll have to leave the house after dinner.
Thank god her last day of school is next Tuesday. I can’t keep up this frenetic pace!
"Miz Poo, I am TRYING to write an entry, here… Could you please haul your portly butt over to your pillow?"