Life With the Two

I found this in my mailbox yesterday before I went to work. A little beat up, sorta “damp” but still awesome.

When I talked to my dad about sending it, I told him that he was to buy the stuff at the store where I worked with The Hubs. It was on sale. He wasn’t sure how many ears he could get into the box, so he took it with him and just filled it up in the produce section. I told him if he went early, he’d only run into people who know me, and since I worked there for five years, they know him too. In high school and for a couple years later, everyone acted like everything I did was normal. Because I don’t care what people think. Dad laughed because he knew this was true. So he agreed to do it.

My dad is not one to do funny things in public. He’s hilarious when it’s just the family. But remember what my dad looks like?

He doesn’t really look like the type of guy to do crazy things right? Well, after a quarter of a century being related to me, he finally is breaking down and doing stuff that I find “normal” that other people don’t normally do.

Even Katrina who works at the service desk at the store where The Hubs, Brat, and myself used to work at. She left me a message. And I’m sure she decided that my father mailing me a box full of fresh corn was completely normal.

I could almost swear I heard angels singing when I saw this. It was also almost enough to make me faint out of joy. If fainting out of joy is possible.

This? Well this was just icing on the cake, and a little bit orgasmic. And then, I remembered how much I hate shucking corn. Because the hairs? The hairs are a complete and utter pain, and take FOREVER to get out of the corn, or your teeth if you miss a few.

So I made the kids do it. Because I’m the best mom ever. And I sure as heck wasn’t going to be the one to stand over the trash can and peel hair and husk off ears of corn, when I had better things to do. You know, like take pictures of the corn, and read blogs.

Twelve minutes, one stick of butter, and a few grinds of salt and pepper later, this is what I had for dinner. So freakin’ good. And I still have ears to eat. And maybe now, you’ll understand why I say Indiana has the best corn in the world. (And it’s the prettiest. Illinois, Iowa, and Kansas all have beyond ugly corn.)

I have worked very hard at work the last two days. (Read: I have done basically nothing) So Tiff and I took Erica out for a surprise evening. There was chocolate involved, and lots of talking, because honestly, I don’t think any of us ever shut up. It’s probably why we can be friends with each other. We don’t notice this in each other, until we point it out in ourselves. (The Hubs called toward the end because he wanted to make sure I was still coming home!)

Ever the photographer, I had to take out the camera a couple of times. This is what we ate. And Erica picked, and I would so trust her with my life based on her choice of fondue alone!

This would be milk chocolate, with caramel and pecans. It’s called the “Flaming Turtle”. I would have had a better shot, and I hope you will pretend that there isn’t a giant streak of chocolate down the side of the pot, but really? Do you see this? It tasted 1000x better than it looks. Honest. I would never lie to the three of you!

Accompanying this beautiful pot of ambrosial delight were plates full of yum to dip into it. They looked like this. (Yes there was more. No, I will not say if we did or did not inhale the missing ones the minute the waiter walked away from the table.)

And what do the three most beautiful mommies formally and presently of our local Air Force base look like when they go out to dessert on a Tuesday, simply because they can?

Just so you know, we were totally whistled at as we drove down the street. I’m just sayin’.

And then. There’s that saying that says “You live for the nights you won’t remember with people you’ll never forget” or something like that… (And this was also the night that Sara learned that the flash goes off at a weird interval on her camera. It’s a good thing I’m a stripper and not a professional photographer…)