Well, so much for catching up on blogs over the weekend. Slowly, but surely, I’ll catch up. Hate when I fall behind on reading.
When Mom and I get going on a topic, we tend to resemble Lucy and Ethel (of I Love Lucy). This weekend was no exception.
During the holidays, Mom’s kitchen most closely resembles what you would envision Mrs. Santa’s cooking domain to look like: cookies, candies, cakes, and, on this particular weekend, cupcakes.
There were only a few cupcakes left (Dad inhaled them, very bad) when Mom said to grab one while I could.
The cupcake had the cutest Frosty the Snowman ornament adorning the icing. Except it wasn’t an ornament. Oh, no. It was a ring. Now, this might not seem like much, but with literally everyone, everywhere getting engaged, it’s a little…ironic.
This is where Lucy and Ethel took over.
Me: “It’s a ring.”
Mom: “Fine catch.”
Me, not missing a beat: “Isn’t it beautiful,” I said, slipping it on my left ring finger. “So lucky.”
Mom: “There are many benefits to marrying a snowman. He’ll never forget your birthday.”
Me: “Hell, he’ll think my birthday is everyday—could be beneficial in the present department—and I’ll never appear to age.” Pause. “If he ticks me off, all I have to do is take off the hat and hide it.”
Mom: “Or stick him in a greenhouse.”
Me: “I’ll always have an ‘in’ with Santa.”
Mom: “The best part? He goes away at least nine months out of the year. Honey, it’s a dream marriage.”
Laughter-snorts followed.
Behold my lovely ring—note the delicate blue and pink plastic. Bit narcissistic that he had to have his face on said ring, but, you know, you make concessions. ;)
