I'm not slow

So my husband got home while I was on the phone with my sister, and he got on his cell phone almost immediately.

While I had been on the phone with my sister, his best friend had called our land line (ah the modern age of one 2 person family having 3 phone numbers ... ), and had left a message. I went up to him to let him know.

Brandon (into the phone): If you were indeed a mighty raisin, no box could contain you.
Me (half whispering): Thomas called.
Brandon (pointed to the phone to indicate that was, in fact, who he was on the phone with)
Me (turned to leave, pause, registered what he was saying just as I came upon him, and absolutely lost it. We're talking almost floor rolling hysterics [if I was more capable of floor rolling, that is])

No, I'm not slow.

warm gooshy thoughts

About a week ago at work, I walked across the street for lunch to the grocery store because I had a hankering for macaroni and cheese and I know they have a really tasty frozen mac and cheese there. I know, I know - I'm so gourmet. Anyway, they also had there huge bars of chocolate - huge bars of "Regal European Chocolate" on sale for only a dollar! How could any self respecting pregnant lady resist?

Anyway, I went back to work, ate my mac and cheese and opened the chocolate. It was perhaps the worst chocolate I have ever tasted. This really is saying something because I am definitely not a chocolate snob. I love me a Hershey bar - I eat Safeway brand peanut butter cups by the bag full ... so while I do love the rich, extra dark, uber gourmet chocolate, I am not especially picky. This chocolate was just ... really bad.

So anyway, Brandon and my best friend Mia was visiting, and I heard the story of what happened from her. I sent Brandon a text telling him that I had just had some of the worst chocolate ever, and that I was going to bring it home so the two of them could back me up on how bad it is (For the record - Mia agreed with me, I don't think Brandon ever tried it). Brandon paused the video game he and Mia were playing and told her that they had to take a break because they needed to get me something.

So I come home to a bag of My very favoritest chocolate ever (see - I told you I wasn't a chocolate snob!)!, all because my husband loves me! The best part about this chocolate is that you can only get it around Easter, so I don't get over exposed to it and it's always special.

Most of the bag ended up in the freezer, and today - after a half day of throwing up (Thursday) and two days of eating bland blandness (because I still felt really queasy up through dinner last night), I decided to treat myself to one of the eggs. And now I have warm gooshy "I love my sweet sweet husband" thoughts running through my head.

And with that I go to sleep (because as much as I love him, I'm not waiting up for him tonight. It's Saturday night - he's a waiter - he'll be home 'round 3ish - if I'm lucky).

(randomly - while trying to find a link to those great butterfinger eggs, I discovered this. Now I want to try that too! Looks fantastic!)