the grass is always greener…

the trip to danville…20 minutes

cost of the tattoo…$75

tip for the tattooist…$15

the look on my face when he came home…priceless!!

for a couple of years now, he’s discussed getting inked; but I really didn’t think he’d do it. he’s such a conservative. when he pierced his ear, all his friends were surprised; he’s just not that kind of guy. I guess all the years of living with my liberalism are taking their toll.

so, for him to actually get the tattoo, was a huge surprise, but for it to be dedicated to me…well, there just aren’t words. *giggle* he loves me alot!

they know the sound of the crisper drawer, they know the sound of the mayo jar lid, they know the sound of the bread bag. just the slightest rustle of one of these things causes a whole herd of kitties to descend upon whomever is unfortunate enough to be caught in the kitchen. the cries are unceasing, unrelenting, pitiful and persistent. they stop only when turkey has been thrown at them in desperation.

I may be exaggerating…only slightly

ME:   sweetheart, when I become my mother, notice I didn’t say if, because I think that’s probably not an option, but when I become her, I would like for you to slap me back to reality.

MY BELOVED:  when would you like me to start?

can you feel the love over here at hockett house?

tony’s got this set of plastic handcuffs that came from someplace cheap, probably the dollar tree. mama shops at dollar general alot, and is always getting the kids some ‘cute’ little thing or another, that falls apart quickly; but she wouldn’t buy handcuffs, for fear that he would cuff maddie to a tree or something. so, since I probably bought them, they had to come from the dollar tree, I like that store.

anyway, the chain between the two cuffs is plastic, and pops off with little effort, so he likes to put them on and do his incredible hulk imitation and show how strong he is by breaking them apart. funny thing, though…last night one of the cuffs wouldn’t come open. the other one just pops off, like the chain. this time, however, he couldn’t get it off, so he banged his arm on the coffee table, then the hearth, all the while getting more and more worked up. it probably didn’t help his mood that I was laughing at him.

then he went to the garage in search of help. he found a screwdriver. (he’s fresh from the shower, in britches and socks) he first put the screwdriver between his arm and the cuff, and tried to pry it off. no go. he swung his arm around, hollering at it and that didn’t help, either. finally, he realized that he could wedge the screwdriver into the joint and pry it apart. voila! he was free. houdini he’s not.