Our trail boss decided to cook dinner and because I was told that I couldn't possibly know what I was doing I was fortunate enough to get out of the cooking responsibilities so I decided to clean the van which incidentally would look really cool painted like the Partridge family van but in some sort of a Catholic way. You know like a POD - a pious and overly devotional persons van . Anyway , our "cookie" (defined as a chuck wagon cook) had finished eating beans out of a pan and he had turned his back and began to rummage through the van for something which I found out later was a piece of bread. So I picked up the pan WITH NO BEANS IN IT and hurriedly washed and dried it. Well my linguistics coach spouts off , "where's my food?" And I said , "I don't know, where did YOU put it?" Then he begins to rant on and on for about five minutes about his missing food blah , blah , blah then I said, "oh, here is your pan". Is that what your looking for?" Then he turned red and angry and said - in a manner that was fitting for a chuck wagon cook working for the "Dalton gang". "WHY DID YOU WASH MY PAN I WASN'T FINISHED EATING!! So I said , "are you kidding?" "There wasn't any food in the pan."
Then he said , "DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO %$#*&%$ EFFICIENT ??? You always have to be so efficient and with that I roared laughing. It was funny because he rarely cusses and when he does it caught me off guard and yet he complimented me at the same time. Then he apologized and felt terrible about it.
Then he said , "DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO %$#*&%$ EFFICIENT ??? You always have to be so efficient and with that I roared laughing. It was funny because he rarely cusses and when he does it caught me off guard and yet he complimented me at the same time. Then he apologized and felt terrible about it.
I do have to be efficient and to a fault it's who I am and your gonna be lost without me. You won't even be able to find the kitchen on your own and it's just at the end of the hall.
Our son put his shoes on the wrong feet. He never notices and it doesn't bother him in the least and look at how dirty we were from walking on dusty trails.
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BTW.. Just in case you haven't figured it out before. I always refer to my husband as my blog administrator , my trail guide , my cookie , my counselor, my jeweler, my whatever because he doesn't like it when I talk about him so I pretend that I don't.
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