Cereal Killer

I know I am being a big baby about this, but when has that ever stopped me?

Saturday the Pastor came to me and stated he desired to take us out to a restaurant Saturday night. We normally go out, and had gone out on Friday night, and I had planned to cook that night, but hey – twist my arm.

The prospect of going out that night got me very excited. That and the fact I was writing a paper on the Romantic Period in British Literature and I desired a distraction, so I fixated on daydreaming about my special date with the Pastor (and the girls).

I put on my new Barbie makeup.

I flipped out my hair with my flat iron.

I spent considerable time and effort getting fixed up.

Later that day, the Pastor and I started that conversation, you know the one that goes something like this: “where do YOU want to go eat.” Only this is when the Pastor tells me we are still going out but he is not hungry and he is probably not going to eat. What? It's our special dinner!

At this point I could sense things were unraveling, so I went against my earlier instinct to wear my new, fancy black dress. I did, however, put on dressy jeans, heels and my fuschia satin trenchcoat.

We ended up going to Moe’s, which was really fine with me, except when we got there the Pastor and the girls promptly abandoned me in the burrito line to order the food while they went and sat down in a booth. Still ok at this point, I’d rather not wait in a lengthy line with kids if I don’t have to. But then, I had to pay for my own special date dinner. Not ok. And the Pastor ate, but I’m not supposed hold him accountable for eating when he said he wasn’t going to, because apparently Moe’s has good fish tacos.

That bothered me. It was just like the other night when the Pastor said he wanted to take me out for my beloved $7 ice cream, but then I paid for it. I know all of our money comes from the same place (him) and goes in the same pot (my purse), but there is a different connotation when I have to pull money out to pay for certain things. Plus, at the end of the month when I’m over budget, well we’d better not go there. The trip to Moe’s and the $7 ice cream isn’t going to be the thing that makes me go over budget, now Is it? (Barbie makeup) But it’s the principle of the thing.

Moving on.

14 cups of cereal

Friday night we went grocery shopping, which doesn’t sound like fun, but it was at Super Target so it was. We (The Pastor) allowed the girls to each choose a box of cereal. That was FRIDAY night. Fast-forward to SUNDAY. That means the girls had the opportunity to eat the cereal for breakfast Saturday and Sunday morning.

Each box of cereal originally contained 10 cups of cereal. When I picked up one of the boxes off the counter Sunday morning, it was amazingly light. Further investigation revealed large quantities of cereal missing.

For various reasons, we have been working with the girls on their eating habits, doing things like trying to set a good example (except when I am eating 4 pieces of cake at a wedding), exercising and encouraging healthy lifestyles. We have talked to them about what is a serving size and had taught them for breakfast to measure out a cup of cereal and half a cup of milk amd that is your serving of milk and cereal and your breakfast. Voila!

Silly me. When I would see the cereal bowls and the measuring cups in the sink, it would make me happy. Kids are doing what they are supposed to be doing!

Well apparently, Loretta had decided she no longer liked using the measuring cup. I’m not sure what the other one’s excuse was. Someone had used the measuring cup because it was in the sink.

And out of the two boxes of cereal, exactly 14 cups of cereal were missing. Which means between the two girls, each had consumed 7 cups of cereal over a two-day span. And the worst part, is that before we even knew how much cereal she had eaten, Loretta had been lamenting about her starvation to the Pastor (who hadn't even eaten breakfast that day), wondering when we would be going out to dinner. AND WE HAD TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THIS ON THE SABBATH.

There is no day of rest in parenting.


yes, I bought it


hair hair everywhere

places where I have found hair (not belonging to me) over the course of the past six months where I did not care to have it:

-my hashbrowns
-hot cocoa mix
-package of frozen broccoli
-my salad at a fancy Italian restaurant
-my coffee at Starbucks
-my donut at Starbucks
-in my food at a Korean restaurant, on two separate occassions

And my beloved whipped peanut butter, the only peanut butter I have ever loved in my entire life, has salmonella! What is this world coming to?


Valentine's Ball, II

Valentine's Ball

my valentine

This was the same day as the Valentine's Ball. This would technically be the "before" picture - before the hair up-do and the make-up. I thought I liked this shirt. Cute, sporty shirt with random numbers on it! Then I realized the numbers aren't so random - it's the number I will be on my next birthday.


No grand prize for me and THE PASTOR, but he's still my Dr. McDreamy

The Pastor and I went to an event last night. The Pastor and I were part of the entertainment at the event. The Pastor and I were contestants on a rendition of "The Newlywed Game." The Pastor got the incorrect answer to the following question:

What is your wife's nick-name for you?

Uhhhhhh, let's see. Could it be THE PASTOR???????

Actually, I have two nick-names for him. Professor Hot T. McHotstuff and THE PASTOR. The Pastor being the most popular of the two, hence over 500 blog entries about THE PASTOR on the I MARRIED THE PASTOR blog. Does he not read this thing?

His guess was "My Lord." I think he just wanted to get a reaction from the crowd with that one.

I do call him that sometimes. But only on very special occasions.

We came in 4th place, out of four couples.


6 weeks of ugly

only to find out I am NOT a candidate for laser eye surgery.

The good news? All that money we set aside in our Section 125 medical spending account! Yippee!!! Hmmm, wonder what kind of plastic surgery I can have instead?

Or perhaps this is a divine message that I should have a baby instead?


for deposit only

"Meaningless, said the teacher. It's all meaningless."

The Pastor thinks it is completely stupid for me to be making a Valentine box. He said it is dumb and pointless. Where else are people going to put my Valentine's? I told him it is no more meaningless than his doctoral dissertation on the violent patterns of kingship in ancient Israel.

We are in bed. The Pastor is reading some biblical commentary on Hosea and Micah. I didn’t even know those were books of the Bible. He is reading his book by the light of his rechargeable flashlight.

Things the Pastor has ruined me on, forever:

1. I used to be a very careful shopper. Once I purchased something, it was a permanent decision. Now, since marrying the Pastor, I know that everything is returnable! It’s easier to buy the whole store and take it back later than to agonize over purchasing decisions.

2. I used to think I was too good to shop at Goodwill.

3. Eating past 5 p.m.

4. We went to a restaurant today, and I really wanted nachos (cholesterol alert!), but now I am so cheap I got the special – a one-topping pizza (cholesterol!), which was priced $3 less than the nachos.

5. Showering alone.

6. I used to think I could only drive a brand-new vehicle. Now I know the beauty of being able to park anywhere, because I don’t care if anything should happen to a car that is dented on every single panel.

7. Waking up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready to go to work.

8. The big, fancy church, with the coffee bar conveniently located in the lobby. (Actually, I do kind of miss that.)

9. Reading the Bible. Now I know that is for expert Bible Scholars only! No amateurs allowed!

10. Having a pristine oven. I lived in my condo for nearly two years, and Nate was the only one who ever cooked anything, and his cuisine usually amounted to pancakes and scrambled eggs.

Thing I have ruined the Pastor on, forever:

The only thing he could come up with is he used to never order desserts in a restaurant. Now, he knows we are ordering the $7 piece of cake.

Oh what a difference I have made in his life.


This is the Pastor. I've hacked into my wife's account.

As I came home today, she was simply backing out of the driveway.

Simply . . . backing . . .

straight out of the driveway.

Notice her tire tracks from this simple procedure . . . and next time she is on the road, be afraid, be very, very afraid.
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