"What if I yelled BINGO?" I whispered to Chuck as we settled into a table with a view of sweet, sweet Lake Superior.
A table full of woman had already raided the gift shop for sequined caps in an array of colors. They were killing it. Someone bought the YOLO sunglasses from the spinner next to the Fritos. As soon as we boarded, a bunch of men made for the bar -- purchasing full rounds of beers for tables. They were inspiring.
I saw celery salt and said two words that improved an already great situation.
"Bloody Mary?" I asked Chuck and his face lit up. It was 12:15 p.m. somewhere.
The bartender asked which vodka I wanted and I said "whatever is a step up from gross."
He mixed in a shot and poured from a pre-made mix poured from an oversized Tabasco container. He asked if we wanted the fixings and I answered in the affirmative.
Pickle. Olive. Cheese cube. Salami. Celery Salt.
"This is the best day of my life," Chuck confessed.
Chacha only tried to jump out the window once.
This was so much freaking fun.
|Bed bugs, probably.|
|Mixed response on the avocado role, A-plus on the soy sauce, tho.|
Charlotte and I had a talk about how she is growing up and how she can run fast, jump, eat pizza, paint pictures ...
"Do puzzles," she added.
... and so she's not a baby anymore. So maybe I don't have to carry her everywhere.
"I little," she argued.
Crap. I just Googled to see which season of MasterChef we're watching and saw who wins it in a headline. I HATE MY LIFE RIGHT NOW SPOILERS HELP NOT COOL.
In other news, if anyone wants to see a pretty sweet impression of Cutter from Season 5, please stop by. Chuck has it on lock down.
"This is spare rib, with toothpaste in it. Seemed like a good idea to me." Shrug.