Monday night we had chic- fil- a for dinner. I really only wanted a chocolate ice dream. Please don't even think about googling the calories in that thing. Lets just say I am running A LOT to make up for it. But I was so excited. I had dinner in my car, headed home to Mr. Broome and the Bachelor. I was chatting with my mom on the phone and making a sharp curve when all of a sudden the ice dream in between my legs(bc my cup holder was full) exploded. Exploded meaning my legs squashed it while making the turn and running my mouth.
Ice cream was every where.
It was in a puddle under my bum.
It was shellacked to the steering wheel.
My mom might have even got a taste of it from her end of the phone. I told her my dilemma and quickly hung up all the while debating to stop and clean myself up or keep going home. Less than a mile, I kept going. Sipping the darn thing on the way because that's how you make lemonade out of lemons right? I called Mr. Broome and asked him to have a wad of damp paper towels to greet me at the door.
No questions please.
We cleaned up my car, got dinner inside, started to sit down, and after Mr. Broome pointed out the milkshake on my face and in my hair we had dinner.
And this is a married story since I haven't told one in a while.
I love jumping out in the dark corners of our house to scare Mr. Broome. I always, always get him. Normally I will pretend to be heading to bed and stand in our hall bathroom and jump out as he is making his way to bed. He always jerks back with an awkward surprised face and I really can't stop laughing. Oh Mr. Broome you are such a chicken.
Little chicken hahaha.
But Mr. Broome is a sensitive man and will not be "got" with out revenge. So this same Monday night as the milkshake catastrophe, I am getting a glass of water as I watch Mr. Broome head down the hall to bed. I am talking to him as I round the kitchen corner when he jumps out and scares me. Oh that man, I sent that water straight up in the air, still in my hand, but dousing the floor. And to serve him right, I threw what was left on him.
It's my turn next you rat.
Any vengeful ideas on how to get Mr. Broome back readers??