Somebody needs get that boy some cotton candy

I don't want to talk about the National Championship game on account of the fact that our star quarterback left the game injured within the first few minutes of the first quarter, and we had to bring in our back-up who has a ton of potential, but is a freshman who looks like some of the kids I used to babysit. A little guy out there playing in the National Championship game. Jimminy Cricket. Not the best combination for the BCS Championship, folks. I just wanted to go up and hug him afterwards for giving it what he had, despite all the big brutes around him ready to pummel his rookie butt right into the 50 yard line. We sure had a lot of fun screaming in the last 6 minutes of the game when we came back from a score of 6-24 (23?) to 21-24...then the last 3 minutes I sat with my jaw dropped as we watched the final score turn from 21-24 to an ugly 21-37. Ouch. Somebody get this crowd a band aid. And that's when I wanted to go up and give him a hug. Or at least some cotton candy. You know, for sticking with the big leagues in the biggest game of the year. I love cotton candy.

I also love getting my hair done. After I went to the hair salon for the first time in way too long, I came home and did some laundry then sat and read The Red Tent while I waited for the hubbers to come home from work. He walked in the door and said, "Wow. You look great! I'm taking you out to dinner. You just look too good to stay here and eat mac and cheese at home." At this point two thoughts crossed my mind: 1) How did he know I was going to make mac and cheese for dinner? and 2) I must look pretty "rustic" every other day of the week because the only thing I had done differently that afternoon was get some partial highlights and throw on a shirt instead of some pj's. Guess I'll have to pull the hair out of the ponytail and throw on a sweatshirt more often because I had a ball being treated to a dinner out on the town in the middle of the week.



I also love these puppy eyes. I mean, just look at him.



I also love wearing socks that match. This is because most of the time, due to my laundry affliction, my socks don't match. Similar to the predicament the hubs found himself in the other night when we were watching Biggest Loser. Nice socks, Big Guy. I'd be lying if I said that isn't really really normal around here.



And of course, I also love the chocolate ice cream that found its way into my freezer after our last grocery run. I also love eating ice cream while watching The Biggest Loser. Because who doesn't want to stuff their faces full of fats and sugars just for fun to see if Jillian Michaels will pop out of the screen and stand on the arm of your couch and yell at you and ask you why the heck you think you can sit there and eat that ice cream during the Last Chance Workout? I love it. Such a thrill. And I love watching this little critter eye ball my spoon until each and every last bite is gone and he has exhausted all efforts to convince me he deserves a lick and finally heads back to his spot on the other side of the couch. Bwa ha ha



Tonight I am racking up a record amount of clean laundry and doing a few last minute things to get our house ready for a showing early next week...looks like somebody did a drive-by and is interested in taking a look. So we'll see. Don't want to get our hopes up, but that little house out in the country with the woodsy fence and the dog romping in the front yard is sure to be haunting my dreams tonight...