Part One is here. Part Two is here.
16. Old men love me. Mr. Jim thinks I'm "awful cute." I think he's awful cute, too. Steven always says if I ever leave him I'll head to the nursing home to look for husband number two.
17. Young boys love me, too. Nick wants to marry me. Which is wrong on so many levels. One, he's in elementary school. Two, he's my nephew. Three, he's just not my type. Oh, and I'm already married.
18. Ten or so trips up and down the stairs per day is not enough exercise to keep my hindquarters from swelling to the size of a Honda Civic. Honda Civic: Little for a car, huge for a backside. Wouldn't that make a great motto for them?
19. On a related note, Steve and I are Buttertons! Isn't that great?!
20. Nail-biting from recent Red Wings loss + late night cherry pitting = hands that look like they belong on a zombie in a cheesy horror flick.
21. Old people use a lot of toilet paper. It's true! Recently I asked the church folks to save cardboard tubes (ie tp tubes, paper towel rolls, gift wrap tubes, etc) along with coffee cans and spice shakers for a craft project I'm doing with the kids next month. Well the coffee cans and spice containers are slowly coming in, but I'm buried in mountains of toilet paper tubes! Seriously. Every kid in Memphis could have a toilet paper megaphone and I'd still have leftovers!
And now, a picture of my mother-in-law and I at the Memphis Zoo. Note how she exults in the suns' rays while I hide from them.
22. Yet another thing I've learned the hard way: the sun hates me. I don't tan, I burn, peel and become pasty again. Curses, fair skin!