Reprimanded

You're never too old to feel like a five-year-old busted for writing in crayon on the walls. 

Yesterday I had an annual physical. Everything checked out fine. My doctor flipped through my chart and looked up. 

"You're still taking Vitamin D supplements since we got you back on track from your deficiency?" 

"Oh. Those. Right. Ah, no. I'm not actually taking those." 

He removed his glasses to stare at me. "And why is that?"

I shrugged. "I'm just not good about taking pills." I smiled my best "I'm going-to-charm-my-way-out-of-this" smile.

He was having none of it. His pen made an angry tapping sound on the chart. "And the calcium supplement?"

"Um... no. I'm not taking that either."

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Dena As Swedish Chef

Driving in to look at homes today, Blair and I discussed what's essential and what's not. 

"You know," I said. "I need to get over this fetish I have for huge, gourmet kitchens. It's not like I'm that great a cook."

"You're a passionate cook," said Blair.

"Define passionate," I challenged.

"Messy," said Blair. "Remember the Swedish Chef from the muppets? Your style of cooking bears more then a passing resemblance to his."

"Rude!" I said, laughing. 

Rude, yes. But sadly, true. Enjoy.

 

Smug Marrieds: Bidding Wars

This house-hunting process is not for the weak of heart.

To wit, Blair and I found this amazing home in Greensboro, way beyond our price range. But the online photos were so stunning I begged Blair to let us go and and just look at it. Which we did. And of course, we loved it. But we told our realtor it was just too expensive and we comforted ourselves with the fact that even if we could afford it, it really was just too much house for two people. 

The selling agent called our realtor and our realtor indicated our price range -- a good $60k below what they were asking--and the agent said, "They need to sell. Make an offer." 

New ballgame. Now that I knew I had a shot at it, I wanted this house. Forget too much space--did you see the ginormous screened-in patio? The gourmet kitchen? The front AND back staircases? Mine, mine, mine! 

We made an offer.

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Smug Marrieds: What's In The Box?

He got me again.

When I arrived home today, there was a huge cardboard box leaning agains the front door, addressed to one Mr. Blair Harris. 

"Whadcha order? " I asked when he got home. 

"Oh man, yes!" he said. "I've been waiting for these to come in. New D&D figurines." 

"Are you serious?" I asked. "We're trying to sell the house, you know."

"I know!" he said. "I better get these guys set out pronto!" 

He disappeared upstairs with the box and a few minutes later I heard him cursing. 

"Damn it," he said, coming downstairs, carrying the opened box.  "This isn't what I ordered." 

"Aw, did they send you a Yoda figurehead by mistake?" There may have been a smidge of derision in my tone.

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