Brian didn’t get home until almost ten Sunday night because he stopped and got ice cream at my suggestion. Neither of us had eaten dinner, I had a tuna sammich around 2:30 that afternoon between vacuuming and floormating, didn’t get done cleaning until eight o’clock.
I just didn’t have time.
Yesterday, he slept in, then got up and washed his Bronco and I did laundry. When he was finished washing, he came in and we started watching U.S. park travelogs on the Travel Channel, then he made BLTs for a late lunch.
So, it was ice cream for dinner last night.
The ice cream he bought was Starbucks, I think. It was on sale and he got two quarts. One of Mud Pie and one of Coffee. Sunday night, I got the Mud Pie and he started on the Coffee. I had enough before he did and put the remainder of the Mud Pie into the freezer. He put his leftovers in the freezer when he was done.
So, I ask last night “You want ice cream?” He said “sure, but let’s switch” meaning I finish the coffee and he finished the Mud Pie. I pull them out, the coffee feels MUCH lighter than the Mud Pie. I weigh them. No wonder the bum wanted to switch. There was over 16 ounces of Mud Pie left, only 9 ounces of the coffee. He just laughed. I laughed, too, as I spooned Mud Pie ice cream into my container of coffee.
The bum.
Brian’s nieces are in town for about nine days and Brian’s mom had called up last week asking if we’d like to go to dinner either Sunday or Monday night. I said Monday would be better because Brian would probably be up at the property on Sunday. That was the last I heard of going to dinner.
Around six last night I asked “so when is your mom going to call about going to dinner tonight?”
Good thing she didn’t, I wasn’t really hungry.
 |
