On Saturday, a friend called to let me know about the PJ day at Brewster's Ice Cream Shop. Saturday night we all loaded up, in our jamas, and drove across town to get HUGE waffle cones with ice cream of our choice. It was cold, but we didn't care!
4 years ago
11 comments:
Hey...I have "jammies"...why didn't you call me?
I have jammies, but if I eat anymore ice cream, I run the risk of not fitting them.
too late, for me!
girls...I am getting discouraged...what can we do to get each other motivated to out of these big jammies?
whoops....I meant..."get out" of these big jammies.
???
obviously, i have no idea!
Flee, I say. Yea, again, I say unto you Flee. And again I say flee...w/your sneaks on of course.
'Flee'?, this coming from the woman who called me up today and would only repeat the word 'doughnut' trying to impart some inclination toward me to buy her one, since she cannot buy it herself. Being a good husband, I bought her one, then being a better husband, I ate it on the way home.
No just joking, but they did put a new coffee house in the building my office is in. They bake fresh pastries every morning, then Satan wafts the smell of fresh baked pastries up the escalators to our office.
My husband comes home from work to an empty house for a couple of hours and lets my dirty little doughnut craving out of the bag!
bad hubby, bad hubby....
that was a funny interchange between you two!
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