ammogirl

…and that’s all I’m going to say about the season finale of the Best!Show!Ever!!!!

On Friday I went to a going away lunch for my coworker.  Now, I’m normally not a squeamish person when it comes to food…I mean, there are things I definitely refuse to eat myself, but generally speaking, what OTHERS eat is of no importance to me.  This is null and void, however, when the person across the table from me orders Escargot.  You guys.  There are no words to describe how disgusting it is to watch someone pull a snail out of it’s shell, stuff it into their mouth, and chew rubber-erly.  I don’t care what it tastes like, or that it’s a delicacy.  I…oh god, I can’t even talk about it anymore.  Snails crawl on the ground, leaving behind them a trail of snot.  Eating them is completely unnecessary, in the world of ammogirl.

I made it through, though, with lots of mouth covering and much facing of the wall at crucial moments, and was rewarded on the ride back to work with a sublime verbal misunderstanding: the guy in the back seat kept talking about his love of Hummus Mint Ketchup, and no amount of disbelief on my part would dissuade him from proclaiming how good it was.  He kept proclaiming, with an strange look on his face, and I kept asking, with my own strange look.  Finally, I turned around and said slowly and precisely, “Hummus MINT ketchup?  HOW IS THAT GOOD?”  and he said, “No, dumb, Pommes mit Ketchup. You know, like french fries and ketchup?”

Oh.

Pommes mit Ketchup.  Of course.  I knew this, because hummus mint ketchup?  Not even imaginary okay.

There is a new development in our household.  It is not a fun one.  This development is adolescent boys hell-bent on impressing my daughters with random gifts: dirty boots, a paper towel, an old sawhorse.  They have set up residence in the lot across the street and do things that boys do when trying to impress girls like, I don’t know, jump on things and push each other.  I don’t know.  I was not impressed.  I asked Taylor if SHE was impressed (Lindsey was at a friend’s house) and she…had no comment.  Which means, horrifyingly enough, that she WAS impressed.  Which also means that as of yesterday, I officially hate all boys.

Today when they came around and started buzzing the doorbell, I opened the door to discover the sawhorse at the end of my front walk.  I stared pointedly at it for a moment, and then I made John walk around front and stand there menacingly.

The sawhorse is gone now.

Tschuss!!