The "B" Word

I have my days.

Those days when I'm just plain cranky.

My poor ole husband has to deal with me on those days.

When he's reached his limit on how much he can take, he tells me to quit being such a "B".

I tell him that he says "B" like it's a bad thing.

Honestly, isn't every woman a "B" now and then?

We have our "B" moments, our "B" days, times when we're just a plain "B".

I may have more than others.

But he can get me out of those "B" times quicker than anyone.

And just so you know,

"B" is for "Brat".

Because We Can...

My girls like their Moon Pies melted.
Don't ask me why since I'm not a huge fan of Moon Pies no matter how they're presented.


But still, this is a melted Moon Pie:



Just oozing with chocolately, marshmallowey goodness; according to sources who actually like them.

And because it's so important to share, here's a short video of the culinary process:

Your day is now complete.

Guy

If you

live

to be

a hundred,

I want

to live

to be

a hundred

minus

one day

So I never

have to live

without you.

~A.A. Milne

Shoot-Out

My two older kids (that are still at home) went to the State Fair an extra night with friends.
And they graciously brought back gifts! Both the 20-yr old and the 27-yr old came back armed. And somehow, the 20 and 13-yr olds ended up with them. Cool!
So-
Girls, get your weapons!
And get your ammo....

And here.

We.

Go.

Sic him!

Careful!

Digression....

Back to the OK Corral:

Careful with that ammo!

Someone may pick it up and lob it at you:

But he's still outnumbered:

By GIRLS:

Yeah, he's losing:

He has to play like a gentleman:

Which just seems so unfair, at times:

But he's tough. He can take it:

And the biggest kid (my husband, Guy) can't stand for the other kids to be playing with guns. So he has to go and get one. It's important to know that a BB gun makes the coolest sound on the dinner bell:

Just Driving...

The South is different.
The Rural South is waaaaaaay different.

As you drive mind-numbing miles with no signs of life, you tend to notice things like this:

Someone had a sense of humor.
At least, I hope that's what it is.
Then again, maybe there's some deep connotation...
I'll never know...




But I just have to believe it's based on a sense of humor running rampant in this area!

Otherwise, this would just scare me:

Yeah. That's what the actual street is called.

Now, back to the mind-numbing miles.

Only, more slowly this time.

Much more slowly.... *sigh*

To Be Fair...

...that's what they've all been called everywhere I've lived. The State Fair, to be exact.

But since we've moved to the Deep South, I've learned that here it's called the National Peanut Festival. But ok, it's still a fair to me. The only difference is that this one has a theme. A peanut theme:

With big ole buckets of roasted peanuts all over the place:

And a friendly Peanut (I have no idea who that man is):
Who dances:
And even exercises:

But other than that, it's a fair.

There's the Giant Slide:
And the lights:
And look! There's even a Guy eating peanuts!

(Uh.... Seems kind of unpresidential to me....

Just sayin'....) And:

Even a short dork hanging on to some Guy:

Ok, make that two dorks:

And did I mention the lights?

Lots of lights!

And the glider-thingy:

Complete with dorks:

Who are being dorky:

Extemely dorky:

Swimmingly dorky:

Flyingly dorky:

And there are vampiric dorks:

That are kind of skeery:

In a dorky kind of way:

But they are friendly dorks:

Ooh! There's even a sneak-up-on-you dork:

And the fearless dork:

And lights! Did I mention the purty lights?

And there's waiting in lines:

And taking pictures while you wait in line:

And crowds:

And purty lights! Did I mention....

And fun, sort of:

And making weird faces:

REALLY weird faces:

And chatting while waiting:

And. I have no idea:

And more chatting:

And, um, hair?

But the very best part?

They have a mechanical bull!

And some Guys just get better with age!
And that is...

No bull!

So whatever they want to call it, it's still a State Fair!

The End.