ME: (responding to a particularly naughty text message) There you go again! You need Jesus...
HIM: Me? Lol. I didn't see your face on the picture of The Last Supper either...
ME: I was in the kitchen getting more bread... who you think cooked that shit? I didn't see J-Money up in there slaving over a hot stove!
HIM: No comment. Lol. That is blasphemy. *enters into priest booth* Father I ask that you forgive her for the J-Money reference.
ME: Lol! You know that shit was funny.
HIM: *traces outline of a cross in front of my face and chest*
ME: God can't help you now, I've got plans for your soul...
Mari has N for the week down in DC, and she let me know that my baby is obsessed with the Olympics. But apparently N is annoyed that the U.S. men keep winning gold medals and not the women.
So then I get this email from Mari that quoted my little schmuckin-face as saying:
"I wish I could swim so I could go to the Olympics"
followed by the Jaded-esque comment
"But what if I got to the Olympics and finished last like that guy...Oh boy, Katie Hoff is swimming, I bet we are gonna get SECOND place"
Why am I BEYOND proud right now?
*smooches... with just the tiniest dash of MUAHAHAHAHA*
sometimes I sit back and take in some of the shit I say and approve of and wonder what number SPF I should take with me to the afterlife...
and yes, Mari, I jacked your WHOLE email for my blog. and what? lol