Select the best response for each question in order to find out which exciting thing you are that I was too busy to write about over the summer because we were packing and unpacking and repacking and then moving that same stupid barrister bookshelf thingie a million times and I never got a single moment to myself. Good luck!
Which Word Best Describes You?
Pick a Favorite Tree
Elm. Wait, no: Oak.
I mean, Birch. I think? The one with the leaves, over there?
Joshua, because U2
The one that falls in a forest, if you would only listen
Giving (you know, that passive/aggressive one in the Shel Silverstein book, who gives you all of the things until it’s practically dead, because you just take and take?)
Which of Your Children’s Recent Activities Would Be Your Greatest Source of Pride?
Graduating from high school.
Weathering the loss of all three family pets with grace and strength.
Moving eleventy thousand boxes and that one freakishly heavy couch.
Being mistaken for triplets on a summer college tour.
Helping to outrun tornadoes in Iowa by going “Oh no! Don’t look over there! Oh my God! Just GO!”
Celebrating the legal drinking age in Portugal, which, to hear them tell it, is 14 if you’re with your father.
Making sticky rice and mangoes for dessert.
Smuggling in not one, but two boxes of Kinder Surprise chocolate eggs without getting put in airport security jail, unlike some mothers who shall not be named.
Choose Your Favorite Seventeenth Century Poet
Just kidding, he’s not a poet.
He’s that guy from Miami Vice, who used to be married to Melanie Griffith.
Yeah, I can’t come up with any others.
Wait: John Milton. Psych! That’s my brother’s name.
I’ma make up some names now. Guidmon. Lord Frenulum.
Sir Walter Peacock.
Choose Your Favorite Potato Chip (and then give it to me)
Do you have any Munchos?
No, not Cool Ranch Doritos.
Why would you even BUY Cool Ranch Doritos?
And I mean, as opposed to what? A Hot Ranch Dorito? An Uncool Ranch Dorito?
Check again. You probably have Munchos at the back of the cupboard.
What do you mean, the bag is empty?
I can hear the chips when you shake it, you know.
Give me that bag Right Now. I’m Serious.
Oh great. Just GREAT. Look what you did.
Please. Of course I’m not going to eat Floor Fritos the minute you leave the room.
Just, hurry up and go get the broom, okay?
Congratulations! You Got: Crazy Italian Tenant Called The Police When You Came for the Inspection on Your New Home.
You are bewildered, and, to be honest, sort of terrified. Because the crazy Italian Tenant is, like, screaming, seriously, and stomping around in the rain in her Uggs and her cute little ski jacket, and even the Pest Control guy looks like he wants to throw up.
Next Week: It’s been nearly a year, and I’m still married.
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