December 27, 2010
It is not too much longer that we can type 2010. In a few short days, we will be typing 1/1/11. Who needs curved numbers? I know there are couples that decide to get married on special numerical days like 8/9/10, or 10/10/10, but will anyone try to get married on 1/1/11? New Years day seems like a bad idea. The rehearsal dinner would be off the hook, but the hangover at the wedding? Not a great idea.
I think these special dates and deciding to get married on them, are just a trick by the bride to get the groom to remember their anniversary. I am skeptical that it will work, because their anniversary will never fall on the special number day again. Will 8/9/11 be special? I guess we will see.
I remember the anniversary of Beth's big day because it was one of the highlights of my life. 7/27/91 was the date. We will be married 20 years in July. When I call it Beth's big day, I am not saying it was a bigger day for her than me, I am just reminded how everyone kept referring to the wedding as the bride's day.
So that is not why I am here today. First, I am off..woot, woot. Second, the holiday is over...woot, woot! Unfortunately, I have cancelled my sister's visit as I am way too burned out to be my usual entertaining self this week. Also, I could not get my schedule switched to accommodate the visit. My hope is that we can get together up here sometime when it is warmer. When CJ heard the news, he cancelled his appointment with the locksmith. He was going to have a lock installed on his side of the basement door (aka the man cave) just in case his cousins decided to play the "hit the big kid in the nards" game.
As for the holiday season, we survived at the Target. We had very good sales and no one got hurt. People were ready to spend this year, but most of them waited until the very last minute. Thursday and Friday were both wack and doodle. By the time I left on Christmas eve, I was exhausted.
I do, however, have one funny story to come out of the season.
One night, I pretended I was back in college, and ate a bag of microwave popcorn for dinner. The whole bag. It is the perfect meal for a 46 year-old intestinal tract. The next day, I was feeling it in my innards.
I took my 2 minute break at work, and went to my favorite stall in the men's bathroom. As I was doing some thinking, in came a man and his 3 daughters. Apparently, he was unaware of the family bathroom we have over by the pharmacy. It was totally relaxing to have the four of them share this experience with me. However, the dude sounded like a very good, patient father (plenty of patience required to be the father of 3 girls, I would think). The girl he was helping was the youngest. She sounded very cute, even when she asked dad, "why does it smell like popcorn in here?"
Quietly, I washed up and departed.