Four Hundred Words To Tell Y’all We Did NOTHING This Weekend

So this weekend, I actually got my Martha on, and I made meatballs.


I.  Made.  Meatballs. And the meatballs were good, and Hubs declared them a Do-Over for another dinner soon, and then he kept saying in astonishment to the boy, “Your mom made meatballs!”  Because I think it goes without saying that making meatballs is very possibly one of the grossest jobs this side of the guy who cleans porta-potties after a traveling carnival has been in town, because uncooked hamburger stuck beneath my fingernails can take me to a level of puking that not even pregnancy could achieve.

So I sort of feel like I have accomplished something big in my life.

And, like climbing Mt. Everest, I don’t know if I need to repeat the performance or not.  Like climbing the snowy mountain and actually making it without your frozen nose breaking right off of your face like a thin icicle, I think meatballs MAY BE something that I can say, “Yes.  I did that once,” and then simply leave it at that.

Yes.  I climbed K2.


Yes.  I made Hubs some meatballs.

And now I can check that off my bucket list.

I have to say that the making of the meatballs (and perhaps even the Eating of the Meatballs) was pretty much the high point of our weekend, unless you count hanging a new curtain rod to be on a level that surpasses the fun one can have at Chuck E. Cheese during a four-year-old’s birthday party.

That pretty much sums up our entire weekend, people.  I made meatballs.  Hubs hung a curtain rod.  And the rest of our time was spent throwing down an 89-point word on Words With Friends against Pastor John and catching up on old episodes of Modern Family.

I can only imagine that my twenty-something-year-old college self with the Rave home permanent and the first-ever pair of open-toed Nike sport sandals would have been appalled to hear that my non-twenty-something-year-old self would have spent a weekend sitting at home.

Digesting meatballs.

And doing mundane things like putting a new roll of toilet paper on the dispenser.  And cleaning up the lunch crumbs off the kitchen counter.  And purchasing crickets so that the frog and toad in captivity at our house could have a dinner that was every bit as delicious as the meatballs were.

Oh, people.  We were all about THE BORING this weekend.

And.  It.  Was.  PERFECT!!

Happy Sunday night.

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