My sister is having a FIELD day with the pudding story. She's laughing her ASS off at me. A while back, my mom had a carton of milk (school sized, cause she works in a school) hurled at her office, so my sister keeps saying "Got Milk?" to her. Now I'm gonna hear "Got Pudding?" as we drive all the way to Florida together.
I've gotcher puddin' RIIIIIIIGHT HERE!
Seriously though, our family attracts dairy products I guess. Perhaps someone will someday throw cheese at my sister and we'll be the Calcium Trinity. Who knows.
A short entry today. No one threw pudding at me, which is a refreshing change from yesterday.
As emotionally and mentally draining as substitute teaching is, catering prep is physically draining. I made crudite, hummos from SCRATCH, baby (Mr. Catering Man said it was the best hummos he's had in a long time. Yeah baby, yeah!) and I made a great big pita platter, and meatballs for hours d'ourves. Put ham in chafing dishes, so they could be put out and heated... it was fun. I'm wiped out. Totally wiped. I'm so not used to doing physical anything... so this is good for me. It is a good wiped out.
Plus, Mr. Catering Man feeds us while we're working. We can sample that which we are making (hello, hummos? GONE!!! nah. But I did make a dent in the leftovers with some of that pita action). And he runs a tight ship. Sloppy is not in his vocabulary.
I got home right before Jessica and put on some laundry. She met me outside, we threw snow at the dog for a while. I came in to read the mail, and she played the answering machine for me, and brought me a beer.
She's a great gal.
"You looked wiped. I thought you'd like this."
"You are absolutely correct. Thank you."
So I'm off to pick up the boy. I probably won't write anything else later because truthfully, I've got nothin. Zip. So here's a picture to entertain you in your wait for my next appearance, courtesy of my sister's friend Rob. (Thanks for the good laugh today. I needed this reminder of why I don't want to ever highway commute again as long as I live):
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