First of all, I am suddenly aware that there is way too much SPAM and seaweed ignorance in this world. Because intolerance is rearing it's ugly head I am officially taking it upon myself to start the NAASS (National Association for the Advancement of SPAM and Seaweed.)
Let me appeal to your intellect if not your taste buds. Do you not realize that seaweed is the highest source of calcium of anything you can put in your mouth? And SPAM is the highest source of . . . SPAM!
I have a dream that one day all men will be able to sit at the same table of brotherhood and eat green eggs and spam. (And that the Broadway musical Spamalot will play twice a day in Broadway Heaven.)
Okay enough about SPAM! Let's talk about my hub.
I have reason to believe he's been reading my blog.
He must have an ulterior motive, right?
Maybe he's trying to make sure I don't say something wrong. Or worse yet, something right.
Or maybe . . .
Do you think he could have a crush on Crash? (fingers crossed. please please pretty please!)
It's just little things that make me wonder, like Friday while I was making dinner he pulled me aside, backed me up against the wall and said, "Hey dummy, you wanna play chips and dip? You can play the chip and I'll play the dip."
You have to have read my Potato post on Venus and Mars to get that. (But HE would have had to read it toooooooo, if you get my drift.)
My mind was racing, but I acted cool. "You don't have to play the dip, honey, you are the dip."
He reached out and gripped my shoulders. I mean he really gripped my shoulders. Until I said "OWIE!"
Then he let go and said, "You wanna go on a date?"
A what? We haven't been on a date in like forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever.
So we went to the beach and we walked and walked and walked and walked. AND walked. Seriously, we felt like a couple of pioneer children.
Then my hub said, "You wanna do some water therapy?"
So we dove in and tread water like our life depended on it. We couldn't think of anything to argue about so instead we tilted our heads back, closed our eyes and started singing Cheryl Crow.
When I opened my eyes my hub was staring me down with a big goofy grin on his face.
"You wanna play would you rather?" he said.
"You wanna get divorced?" I said.
He just grinned like he didn't believe me. "Would you rather make spagetti for dinner or tacos for dinner?"
"Would you rather me poke you in your left eye or your right eye?" I said.
"Would you rather go to a movie tonight or go to a movie tonight?"
It was a hard choice, but I picked the movie. And so did he. Finally we agreed on something.
He was a bit coy on the way to the movie. After casting a few sidelong glances my way he finally said, "thanks."
"For what?" I said.
"You know . . . for breaking up with yourself. You've been getting in our way for a while now."
"Uhhhhh . . . you're welcome . . . (I guess)."
His eyes lingered on mine in an appreciative way and my stone cold heart skipped a few pebbles. I batted my eyes and slipped into my uber cute voice, "Hey, uh, Crash is having a meet and greet on July 11th at the Provo Olive Garden. You want to come? I bet she would give you her autograph."
He laughed and laughed and laughed. "No way!" he said. "I'm not going to some silly meet and greet!"
(Okay, so maybe he doesn't have a crush on Crash, after all.)
Anybody else have a crush on Crash who wants to come?