I'm not who I was.
Two. The Rev and I had two dates in one week. Jump back.
Our first stop was the Waffle House, because we’re classy like that. I have no documentation of the Waff, however I cannot express to you the level of amusement involved in stop #2: watching my bearded man attempt to consume something frothy without wearing said frothiness upon his face.
Then on Valentine’s Day we had a double date with some of our favorites, which included such amazingly hip activities as fixing flat tires, pillow shopping, and Jenga. And of course some delicious food. It’s not what you do, it’s who you’re with that makes the date a success. I laughed so hard that my neuro-challenged limbs turned to mush noodles for a good half-hour, so I’d say that the entertainment factor was a success. These pillows were amazing and I did not want to let them go. I named them my squishies and called them my own. Although they weren’t my own at alI, and I think my friend may be returning them and I’m really sad about that in theory even though they aren’t at my house. I’d buy them myself except yellow is not my favorite color and they wouldn’t match a single thing that I have. But I’m regretting not having them to snuggle with at this very moment. They were good pillows, y’all. I’m mourning their departure from my arms.
The kids were equally as excited about our having a date night, because they thoroughly enjoy having babysitters… so much so that all we hear for days are endless pleas for us to leave the house, complete with longing gazes out the window while awaiting the sitter’s arrival. We’re super blessed with some great ones. And this one took the kids on a Valentine’s date to Chick-Fil-A, among other things.
About a week and a half ago we had a family date just enjoying God’s creation.
We’ve had some beautiful weather…
…followed by some icy weather. Which, I suppose is beautiful in it’s own right, although not nearly as enjoyable from my perspective. (If one more person makes an Elsa reference, it will be too many.) I’m sure that the northerners are scoffing at our “storm”, but this kind of stuff is a big deal in the south where roads wind and snowplows don’t really exist. What was predicted to be a possible 7 inches of snow turned into a glazing of ice, as most of us in the area anticipated. It’s the curse of the snow dome… or in our case south of the snow dome. I’m just grateful that, at least for us, it wasn’t as bad as the ice storm of ’94 in which I had just gotten several teeth pulled, the power was out for days, and my mom had to make me soup on a bunsen burner. The kids’ perspective is a little different than mine.
Although they were a little disappointed to not be able to build a snowman, they thoroughly enjoyed the slipping and sliding.
Stay warm, friends.