Remember back in the day when you used to play MASH with your sisters and it would lead to intellectual discussions about what you really wanted in a house, and how dogs are so much better than cats, and if you could choose your husband based on occupation, what kind of occupation would you choose? I’m sure there was lots of talk about doctors, dentists, engineers and actors. No mention of graphic designers, although I have found my marriage to one to be quite beneficial for reasons I could not have foreseen as a 13-year-old. But today I am wondering how on earth it slipped my attention that seeking a spouse amongst the classes of the Utah College of Massage Therapy would have actually been the way to go. Seriously.
Also, in case you wanted to text me, or you called me and left a message, or you wanted me to call you, forget about it. Somebody threw my phone over his shoulder and onto the hardwood floor and the touch screen no longer works. I don’t care if he’s wearing a tuxedo, he’s an animal. My phone is fairly useless except for calling one of the last 10 people who called me (Micah, Amanda, Micah, Abby, Mom, Amanda, Nicole, Becca, No Number, Micah). Oh, and he also learned to open the oven today. He’d better learn to make me some cookies pretty darn soon. (But not until the end of October.)