Sometimes it is the littlest things that make my day.
Yesterday I came home to a lovely package from my pal Mika.
That's right people.
As you can see, this little gadget is a natural peanut butter mixer!
It is a real thing, it totally works, and I am the proud owner of this magical device.
Perhaps I should complain on this blog about the little things that drive me crazy more often...
maybe all my problems can be solved with a handy gadget!
In slightly related news (along the lines of modern conveinences that make me happy), I love the cleaners. I know that the little handy hangar paper from the cleaners say "We Love our Customers" which they probably do, but I'm willing to bet I love them more than they love me. We don't have many clothing items that require assistance from the dry cleaner. A few times a year I have a gown and Matt's dress blues cleaned but aside from that everything gets washed and dried at home. I am so thankful that the army uniform is wash and dry!
So Matt is headed off to a week of schmoozing with other helicopter people in Florida. The plan is to see what kind of jobs are out there that he will be qualified for when he retires.
Schmoozing requires a suit. Suits require shirts.
As Matt was going through a mental checklist of the things he needs for the upcoming trip he actually said "can you iron my shirts" to which I almost peed my pants. Uh really? Have I ever in my life successfully ironed one of his shirts?
No. Believe or not no.
Now I have indeed tried to iron a shirt but in some instances it looked far worse after I got to it than before I started and even on my best attempts it still looked like he pulled it out of a suitcase instead of straight off the ironing board (which in reality I don't even have a fully functional ironing board).
So after I stopped laughing I said "you need to take those shirts to the cleaners". He didn't understand that you don't have to have something dry cleaned at the cleaners. You can actually just give them your dirty clothes and they will clean and press them like magic.
Today he brought home 3 perfectly beautiful cleaned and pressed shirts in a plastic bag that said "thank you" on it and I said "oh no...thank YOU".
I do toilets, diapers, dishes, vomit and all sorts of other nasty stuff but I don't press shirts. Thank goodness there is a whole team of people out there willing to take my few dollars in exchange for pressing a shirt.
Lastly, Girl Scout cookies. I never buy boxed cookies from the store. Ok occasionally I'll grab some oreos for the boys. But I absolutely get sucked in to those Girl Scout cookies. Is it the nostalgia or are they actually divine? I don't know. But I do look forward to cookie season!
And I just thought you should know they are $4 a box in Washington and someone I know in California is selling them for $5 a box. People what is up with that? Can troops just mark up their cookies to make more cash? Californians should not stand for this injustice.
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