Traumatized.

Well, I'm not so much but Ashley would have been, if she had been me ... bra shopping at Belk, when the pushy 85 year old lady came walking in to the dressing room to see how my bra fit. And then told me to try on the other size. And then stepped back. To wait for me to change.

(crickets chirping, pins dropping)

"Honey, I been doin' this 25 yeers and you ain't got nothin' I hadn' seen before!"

Gulp.




(incidentally, who knew I'd have two posts about bras inside of a week! hooo-yah!)

The dinner party that crosses cultural lines ... or maybe just generations

I made this dessert for a dinner party on Friday night. Occasionally, all the Colombians in town gather. I pass a few hours fumbling through my rugged Spanish and trying not to embarass myself during the evening. It wasn't exactly formal, nor was the dessert, and I've been short on time because of the online classes and houseguests. Which is why I made something simple, and just barely in time for it to be cooked before we had to leave.

The dessert was something similar to lemon squares, harder crust on the bottom, softer layer on top, in spite of the rush I took the time to sprinkle it with cocoa and powdered sugar all over the top. I wanted to cut it into squares, but short on time, we took it as it was in the 9 x 13 cooking pan. As we were going through the buffet to get food, the hostess wanted to cut it, but said she was worried about cutting the pan. I was worried too when I turned around to see her about to dig in with a 12" steak knife. I told her that no, it was soft, and a normal dinner knife would be able to do the job. Either she didn't own a normal dinner knife, or she disagreed with me because the next thing I know is that she has flipped the entire dessert upside down onto a cooling rack instataneously putting a 9" x 13" dusting of cocoa and powdered sugar on the countertop. The soft topping was moments away from gravity turning the whole thing into pressed garlic.

What did I do? What would you do?

Hey friends ...

Remember when you were all whispering behind my back about whether I was ever going to get married or not? With the onset of ... count'em ... NINE babies in my sunday school class this year and more pregnant, 5 friends from college (several on their second babies), 3 friends from St. Louis ... no wait ... 4 .... yikes. That's a lot of gerber. And a lot more poop.

Whisper away, little parents. I still gotta beat my own drum.

I used the phrase "stuff your bra" in a faculty presentation today

How many of you can say that?

I feel as though I have officially shed the last of my shell that I lived in until 7th grade. Who knew that someday that fragile little bumpkin would be brave enough to speak in front of a crowd, let alone make a public poke about stuffing your bra with recycleable materials on Green Day? Ok ... so it was funnier in person. And yeah, that's what it was about.

I didn't say it was a good joke.