This week, my child's missing toothbrush was not found hiding out inside my husband's guitar. I did not previously search the house from top to bottom looking for that missing toothbrush. Of course, I didn't even think to check inside all of the musical instruments. Silly me. And I certainly did not find the toothbrush after I had driven 45 miles one-way to buy a replacement. Nope, not me!
I did not stick my BIG FAT foot into my BIG FAT mouth this week by ranting to a room full of ladies about how I needed to throw a bunch of pictures away so my children would not have to filter through them someday and throw them away themselves. Especially, since the reason we were together was because it was a Creative Memories sales presentation. And I definitely did not say such rash words after one of the dear souls had just finished telling everyone how she has a closet full of albums that she has carefully created to preserve her memories. Yeah, that was real classy. Not me.
I have not been guilty of nagging my husband about his eating habits this week either. In fact, when we were doing some homework for a marriage class that we are participating in, and we had to write a list of things that our spouses do to make us feel loved, my husband did not write "I feel loved when my wife doesn't say a word about me eating ice cream after 9:00 o'clock". Oh dear. Who is he talking about? Certainly not me!
There have been a lot of others not-so-glorious, do-tell moments this week, but the treadmill is calling my name rather loudly at the moment. So I am going to cut this short. Why? Probably because then I'd have to confess that somebody ate half a blueberry-rhubarb pie this weekend. Wonder who that was? Um, yeah . . . not me. Gotta run. Literally.
I did not stick my BIG FAT foot into my BIG FAT mouth this week by ranting to a room full of ladies about how I needed to throw a bunch of pictures away so my children would not have to filter through them someday and throw them away themselves. Especially, since the reason we were together was because it was a Creative Memories sales presentation. And I definitely did not say such rash words after one of the dear souls had just finished telling everyone how she has a closet full of albums that she has carefully created to preserve her memories. Yeah, that was real classy. Not me.
I have not been guilty of nagging my husband about his eating habits this week either. In fact, when we were doing some homework for a marriage class that we are participating in, and we had to write a list of things that our spouses do to make us feel loved, my husband did not write "I feel loved when my wife doesn't say a word about me eating ice cream after 9:00 o'clock". Oh dear. Who is he talking about? Certainly not me!
There have been a lot of others not-so-glorious, do-tell moments this week, but the treadmill is calling my name rather loudly at the moment. So I am going to cut this short. Why? Probably because then I'd have to confess that somebody ate half a blueberry-rhubarb pie this weekend. Wonder who that was? Um, yeah . . . not me. Gotta run. Literally.
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