Sunday. The littlest granddaughter spent the night. I hear her stirring in her bed, always slow to get awake. My coffee steams beside me as I type away on my iPad while perched on an end of our broken down couch. I wish I could go for a walk.
About another week and I can get back to training for the next Olympics and a new season of American Ninja Warrior. OK, maybe just walking. I can’t wait to shed these crutches and knee scooter. I don’t even care about wearing the boot anymore. The doctor is going to have to have a really compelling reason for me to remain immobile. A very good reason.
In other news, I have none.
Enjoy your Sunday.
Edit Why Joe, what raciiiist foods did you fix the little one for breakfast?
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| One of the last boxes in existence of the most horrible racist THING ever |
It is gone. The empty box trashed. No one needs cower in fear any longer. Except for the Mrs. Butterworth syrup I dumped on top of my stack. That is still triggering people from my pantry.
Yikes! Save the box. Give it to your kids 30 years from now and they'll be able to sell it on Ebay for big bucks. You wouldn't believe how many items that we've sold that are now non-existent.
ReplyDeleteMargi
I would have kept that box! Oh, I see Margi already told you about these things.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I kept a Cincinnati redsWheaties box from the early nineties when they won the World Series and 10 or 12 years later a collector store offered me eight bucks for it. Unopened and in mint condition.
ReplyDeleteNot worth the effort.
Uncle Ben's White Rice?
ReplyDeleteAin't this ridiculous?