Kriss, a fellow blogger, had tagged several of us to post ten known facts:
I hate dipped food. Ever since my daughter first learned that food can be dipped, EVERYTHING has to be dipped: in ketchup, in mustard, dipped in ranch dressing and in any kind of liquid, spread or configuration which something can be dipped in. Last week, on a long tumultuous two hour drive, we had to get something for dinner on the way. Looking for the easy way out, we went to McDonalds. For twenty minutes, I had to continually turn around and present my daughter with sauce for her chicken McNuggets or she cried. (I would never trust a 21 month-old with holding honey mustard sauce in the backseat of a car.) After many times of turning around, I realized, she wasn’t eating the chicken, she was just licking the sauce off. There wasn’t any chicken being eaten at all.
I laugh continually when I read the book I've almost written which either means it’s a damn good book or I’m a borderline lunatic.
I love chocolate, way too much. But what woman doesn’t, really?
I hate changing diapers so much that my husband has probably changed 75 percent of them. Especially the stinky ones.
I hate going to bed because I don’t want tomorrow to come.
I never thought I would be a baby person but I fell in love with my daughter when she smiled at me. And gradually, when I see babies, I’ve now become the motherly schmoozy person by saying, “Ah, look at that baby!” Before I was like, “Yeah, so what?”
I’m way to idealistic for my own good. I believe everyone should operate on a basic of good ethics, sound principles and a kind heart and many times, because of this idealism, I’m let down.
My greatest luck came about with my husband. He looks at me like I’m the best thing that happened since apple pie. And everyone should have someone who thinks they are better than apple pie!
I believe in God and that we should be tolerant of all religions, sexual orientations, differences of opinions and life as long as it doesn’t cause physical harm to others. Who are we to be so sanctimonious to judge others and then use God as the catch phrase for the reasoning behind what constitutes as our own opinions or translations of what he stands for.
I am a grouchy Christmas customer. I now like Christmas shopping for the first twenty minutes. By the time I have been poked, ran over by a cart, stood in a long line for some “limited release” toy, have seen too many people drop stuff in stores and not pick it up and have been ran over by people in a hurry and people not keeping the flow moving in the aisles, I say, “forget this” and I grab the closest present on the shelf and I’m gone. So what if Grandma is going to get an electric knife in a dented box that was on the clearance shelf next to the front lobby. After Christmas, she can be my guest and mosey on over to take it back with her walker in tow and peruse the limitless aisles in search of a left over fruit cake or a foot warmer.
(Actually, I don’t have a Grandma. I’m not THAT mean.)
I laugh continually when I read the book I've almost written which either means it’s a damn good book or I’m a borderline lunatic.
I love chocolate, way too much. But what woman doesn’t, really?
I hate changing diapers so much that my husband has probably changed 75 percent of them. Especially the stinky ones.
I hate going to bed because I don’t want tomorrow to come.
I never thought I would be a baby person but I fell in love with my daughter when she smiled at me. And gradually, when I see babies, I’ve now become the motherly schmoozy person by saying, “Ah, look at that baby!” Before I was like, “Yeah, so what?”
I’m way to idealistic for my own good. I believe everyone should operate on a basic of good ethics, sound principles and a kind heart and many times, because of this idealism, I’m let down.
My greatest luck came about with my husband. He looks at me like I’m the best thing that happened since apple pie. And everyone should have someone who thinks they are better than apple pie!
I believe in God and that we should be tolerant of all religions, sexual orientations, differences of opinions and life as long as it doesn’t cause physical harm to others. Who are we to be so sanctimonious to judge others and then use God as the catch phrase for the reasoning behind what constitutes as our own opinions or translations of what he stands for.
I am a grouchy Christmas customer. I now like Christmas shopping for the first twenty minutes. By the time I have been poked, ran over by a cart, stood in a long line for some “limited release” toy, have seen too many people drop stuff in stores and not pick it up and have been ran over by people in a hurry and people not keeping the flow moving in the aisles, I say, “forget this” and I grab the closest present on the shelf and I’m gone. So what if Grandma is going to get an electric knife in a dented box that was on the clearance shelf next to the front lobby. After Christmas, she can be my guest and mosey on over to take it back with her walker in tow and peruse the limitless aisles in search of a left over fruit cake or a foot warmer.
(Actually, I don’t have a Grandma. I’m not THAT mean.)
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