Grand Slam Communication
My beginning English student told me that he had eaten chicken and candy for dinner.
I hesitated a moment before I clarified that.
Who am I to judge?
Maybe he DID eat chicken and candy for dinner.
It sounds like great comfort food.
A few shots of whiskey would make an excellent dessert pairing.
I was very disappointed to find out, on questioning him, that he had actually eaten chicken and vegetables for dinner.
I am now rethinking my own dinner plans for tonight.
I told the Grown Son that I don’t like his use of the term “Karen.”
It’s insulting.
Our next-door neighbor is Karen.
And she’s lovely.
The Grown Son confirmed that next-door Karen is not a Karen.
And neither am I.
He assured me, however, that I am still annoying, even if I’m not a Karen.
By the time he got through his long-winded, backhanded compliment, I had stopped listening.
I had also stopped caring.
Does that make me a Karen?
At a recent Toastmasters meeting, an interesting discussion broke out about a certain location.
I had never heard of the place.
But apparently everyone else had.
The conversation turned in a hilarious but slightly inappropriate direction.
Well, I couldn’t just let that pass me by.
I had to Google it.
And, oh my, it certainly is inappropriate.
But in an entirely different way than the conversation would have led me to believe.
Some of our Toastmasters members have some explaining to do!
Yay – my dog groomer is back in business.
But it’s not business as usual.
It was curbside drop-off and pick-up only.
People weren’t allowed inside the facility.
I had to wait in the car, and they escorted the dog in and out.
It felt like the elementary school drop-off zone.
But without the bickering, the forgotten library books and the random lost shoe.
I got a bug bite on my ankle the other day.
I didn’t see what bit me.
But holy smokes, it HURT.
And it keeps getting worse.
It has turned into an itchy and painful rock-hard welt.
I think it was a murder hornet.
I’m certain it was a murder hornet.
And that’s the story I’m sticking with.
I’ve got this huge tree in the front yard.
It’s out of control.
I called a tree guy in to give an estimate for service.
From a safe six feet away, the tree guy said it’s a Live Oak tree.
I kind of freaked out.
I can’t just have our oak tree trimmed in the front yard in full public view.
I need permits.
I need permission.
I will probably be refused the permit, and the tree will wreck the roof.
Eventually it will wreck the driveway, the sidewalk, the foundation and the plumbing.
And then I remembered that I don’t live in Thousand Oaks anymore.
I don’t need a permit to trim my overgrown oak tree.
Whew!
What happened to the whole gluten-free thing?
What in the world are people doing with all of the yeast?
The yeast is all sold out in all of the stores.
I have called around to Albertsons, Aldi, Target, Walmart and two different Krogers.
I finally found some today at Winco.
But it’s not packaged in the usual envelopes.
It comes in a one-pound sack.
And it’s labeled instant yeast.
Is that the same as rapid-rise yeast?
I’m having an I Love Lucy flashback to the episode where she tried to bake bread.
I need to do a Google search on how to use this kind of yeast so I don’t have a Lucy episode of my own.
I’m not hoarding.
I am trying to plan my groceries so I don’t have to go to the store so often.
I’m trying to stay ahead of the shopping.
My family is oblivious to my efforts.
This is why we have three opened jars of salsa.
Two opened bags of English muffins.
And several opened packages of cheese.
In the interest of not having to lift a finger, they put empty boxes back in the pantry.
And dishes with one bite remaining back in the fridge.
I may have found another inciting incident.
They’re lifting the quarantine a bit in Texas.
I no longer have to be angry about not being able to go out.
I can go back to making excuses about why I don’t want to go out.
It’s great to be back to normal again.
