T-Minus Seven Years and Counting

Dinner late yesterday.  Not ten minutes late.  Really late.  It gets better.  As post-dinner “treat” I get this kind of pasty concrete.  Wait, oh, I see, it’s supposed to be peanut butter.  Like the rainy season in California is winter.  Yes, I scored Flavor Blasted Xtra Cheddar Goldfish crackers during the game but that’s not the point.

Had it been a blow-out rather than a nailbiter (culminating in walk-off hit by HRH), I might have been starved until bedtime cookies.

Memo:  Assuming I make age 16 – which could be a stretch – I am 56.25% of the way through my life.  I don’t want organic, sugar-free with a hint of fair-trade sea salt peanut butter.  I want Skippy.

This entry was posted in My Life and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.