Dear Diary …
I’m gonna tell you something right up front. Consider it a warning …
I sneeze.
A LOT.
If you’re around me and I sneeze once, you best be prepared because more sneezes are coming. And not just one or two, but more like nine or 10. Why? I have no idea. Go ask the person that made me. It’s just what happens.
And I tell you this for a reason … because once I start rattling off sneeze after sneeze, what I don’t need are your little remarks.
Hey … I get it. You’re really only allowed one or two “Bless Yous” when it comes to a sneezer. And that’s all that I expect.
At the same time, I will also give someone a heads up that a lot more sneezes are coming, and yet every single time they start tossing things in there like …
“Geez … you’re still going?”
“Wow … are you ever gonna stop?”
Did I not warn you of the impending nose concert? Why are you acting like each sneeze is a total surprise to you?
Look … I don’t want your sympathy, and I definitely don’t want you to have to rattle off 10 “Bless Yous,” but I also don’t need your editorial comments like this is the first time I’ve ever heard them before.
OK … moving on Diary …
I love my wife. She’s awesome. She has many amazing talents. She’s smart. She’s funny. She’s cute. However, she also has some less than amazing talents. Now … they are still talents, but they are talents that drive me nuts.
For example … she has an incredible ability to ruin leftovers. Here’s what I mean …
When I make dinner, I often do it with the plan of having some leftovers that I can take with me to work the next day for lunch. It just makes my life easier … I get a delicious lunch AND I don’t have to prepare it.
Enter my wife’s talent … eating JUST enough of those leftovers to make it not quite enough for a suitable lunch.
I’ll portion out our plates for dinner and have my glorious little lump of leftovers ready to roll. And then a few minutes later I hear the dreaded phrase … “I’m going to go get a little bit more.”
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
[[[SIGH]]]
And now here I am with leftovers, but just a few bites of leftovers. Not nearly enough for an actual lunch. So naturally what happens next is I just end up eating the rest of it at dinner that night and end up feeling all full and gross cuz I ate more than I wanted. And I ain’t got no lunch for tomorrow!!
Hey … I told you she had all those awesome talents too … but this one … this one she could put in a box and ship to Siberia and I wouldn’t mind one bit.
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.