Yeah yeah, I know I’m overdue for my weekly post. SO be it. It’s not like I’m sitting around on my duff (though I certainly am at this moment and BOY does it feel good). Listen, it’s hard finding time to write here when I spend most of the day in the kitchen and the rest wrestling crap out of the dog’s mouth.
So before Wipeout is over (I still have 17 mins) instead of some inspired something, or a blog post about the house, I am here to treat you with this:
It is a little tilted I think – or it could just be me, I do have Meniere’s disease. Regardless, that’s my Chris mug. Although my blogging buddies know me as Dishy, in real life people call me Christy, and those who know me best call me Chris. You may not call me Chris if we aren’t super close b/c Chris means Special and has to be preserved for the verry specialiest people in my life. Like my husband, who each morning pours my allotted 1/2 c. coffee into my Chris mug, hands it to me and says, “Chris…. Special.” Which sounds really sweet, and it is – except the voice he uses has a ring to it that suggests ‘special’ is more akin to ‘special ed.’ Which never, ever fails to crack me up.
My Chris mug is sort of like a psychic reading. It tells me everything I want to hear and then some. It softens the blow of waking up each morning by reminding me of my stellar qualities: my unique talents, my golden touch, my flair. Even when I haven’t bathed in 3 days and am wearing the same unwashed filthy fleece I wore the day before, when I have bad breath, untame hair and bleary eyes, my Chris mug knows I am ALL THAT & A BAG OF CHIPS.
I don’t know the exact age of my Chris mug, but age in these matters is irrelevant. We all know love is blind, and timeless, and .. but the mug must date from the late 80s/early 90s. My folks kept it at their house until recently, hence this blog post not having been written years ago. Before the Chris mug came to stay, I’d been using a MOM mug, but MOM got chipped and is now holding pens. So Chris is in heavy rotation, alternating with his buddy, Pantry Peepers (Peepers, for short):
Peepers is the newest mug on the shelf, having joined us at Christmas. He was a present from my husband. I’d seen him at Borders and said out loud, “OH MY GOOODNESSSSSS!!! THIS IS THE CUTEST MUG I HAVE EVER SEEN!!!!!” Then I stood there fondling him for a really long time. When I went to look at calendars (which I didn’t actually buy until February b/c that’s when they got marked down to $1) my husband snuck Peepers off the shelf and used his own Borders gift card (a Christmas gift) to buy Peepers FOR ME. He then presented me w/ Peepers out in the parking lot. And even if that sounds dirty – which it does – it’s just one more reason I love him as much now as ever. Which after 2 kids, this house and 14 yrs together is pretty peeping fabulous. The end.