Posts Tagged ‘bosom buddies


One Arm Wrapping Doesn’t Have To Be Lonely…

I apologize the for low quality of this photo. Perhaps you will forgive me, since I only have ONE WORKING ARM.

I blame Love’s frozen yogurt. You chilly,swirly bastard.

I was with Cracker yesterday, just leaving an appointment and I saw a sign that had this retro international symbol of awesomeness…

"Open to the public!"

I totally slammed on the breaks and did a U-ey…man, I used to love that stuff! Where has it been??? The whole Frozen Yogurt Movement!! It used to be all over the place…wasn’t it? Am I crazy? I mean, I think the last time I had one, I was wearing a Bosom Buddies t-shirt. I kept on telling Cracker it was ice cream, hoping that it wasn’t going to taste like crap.

It was inside of a workout facility for seniors and they were trying to promote the “healthy” vibe in there. When we walked out, some old lady actually asked Cracker if she just finished working out. Cracker giggled adorably and said “no”. And the lady said, in all seriousness, “then you don’t deserve to have that”. I seriously, seriously almost bitch-slapped her. Seriously.

So, you remember, you can twist that all up together…two flavors…remember that???? So I got a french vanilla, just for nostalgia-sake, and some sugar free/fat free pepermint. Holiday party, ya’ll!

HELLO, SELF, you idiot. I am allergic to anything NOT PURE. There is nothing that is pure in a sugar free/fat free yogurt. Like, what IS IT? And it kinda tasted like peppermint baby vomit. But I ate it in defiance. The whole freaking thing. I could hear Cracker in the back seat, going “ew” a couple of times, but I think she ate it in defiance, too. In defiance of what, I am not certain, but has a tenancy to run a little surly.

It took about 30 minutes before I started to feel “THE TWINGE” in my left shoulder. It can be any joint. My immune system likes to change it up and leave me guessing. “THE TWINGE” is quickly followed by the voice in my head saying “Uh oh. ‘THE TWINGE.’ I will be virtually lame within an hour.” By the time we finished errands and I am rushing home to teach a lesson, I could barely steer. On goes the sling. I really need to bling that thing up.

After dinner, I realize that I have to get my nieces’ gifts in the mail, wrapped, so they can be delivered in time for Christmas. I annually SUCK at all things having anything to do with Christmas deadlines, but “As God is my witness…not this year!” she says, holding up a radish to the skies…

Look, she only has one arm, too.

Now, I had my arm in a sling, not because it’s frozen, but because if I move it a cillimeter of a millimeter of an eigth of an inch, shooting daggers of pain whip up my arm, through my shoulder and stab my brain. So, I just try not to move it.

Thor sweetly offered to help, but he was busy helping Alpha finish the project at the last minute that he had TWO WEEKS TO DO BUT DON’T GET ME STARTED. Cracker was off somewhere having her Barbie’s kiss and hug ’cause that’s her newest thing and Bambi is running around the house like the quadruped Turkish tribe who walks on all fours. We are strange, yo.

So I had to wrap all these presents. Bambi eventually returned to Bipedalism and offered to help. She actually got really excited and put on Christmas music. She said, with kind of a maniacal and over-caffeinated look in her eyes, “This is great, you guys, I feel like an only child!!!” *Sigh* I love her.

And I was thinking while we were doing it, every crease, every fold, every piece of tape thrown on there and the bow, Lord of the RINGS, the bow…all of it was literally made very slowly, painfully and with a helluva lot of love. And in the end, with all three of us together, Thor and I agreed on one thing: a nice wrapping job, done well and with care, is definitely part of the present 😉

And I will NOT be accepting Love’s frozen yogurt gift certs this year, thankyouverymuch.

(And you can only imagine how long it took me to type up this post with only 4 fingers from my right hand. Love, people; that’s love.)

Heather Moran

Crazed sulfite-free woman.

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