I haven't watched an episode in a while, but with "The Office" series finale coming up, I'm feeling reminiscent. I remember watching the pilot in college, and I remember subsequent episodes getting funnier and wittier (until they got weirder...). While living in Seattle, I'd meet up with Linsley to watch "The Office" -- Thursdays were my favorite day of the week. Once Justin moved to Seattle, he joined our Thursday night TV night.
If we had still lived in Seattle when Jim and Pam got married, I'm sure Lins and I would have made a cake to celebrate (like some others I know).
Anyway, one night we were watching at Linsley's when Justin decided to make some popcorn. The following is an account of what happened. You probably had to be there to really appreciate this:
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There's nothing quite like the smell of burnt popcorn, right? Ohhhhh, good times.
Last weekend was intended to be a one-night trip, but it turned into a three-night, fun- and family-filled weekend getaway for Team Thompson.
We decided to leave for Grandview Friday night instead of Saturday morning so as not to disrupt Rolly's sleeping so much. The little bugger is not much of a daytime napper and if he sleeps too much during the day, bedtime turns into an UNadventure. After usual bedtime proceedings, we slipped Rolin into his car seat and took off, arriving in Grandview around 11:15 that night.
While Justin worked a bit Saturday in Yakima, Rolin entertained Grandpa and Gigi with his giggles, claps, disguises and near-crawling revs. My friend Linsley also stopped by (YAY!!) to meet Rolin and catch up.
Creepy? Yes. Hilarious? Absolutely.
Joe and Brianna came later in the afternoon. Justin and I waved hello to them as we passed off Rolin and zoomed by on my parents' new mopeds. Yes...I said moped. My parents got themselves mopeds. They're going to join a moped gang with Gary Rohde.
We scooted all around the back roads near my parents' house and then down to see the Olmsteads to grab some chocolate, a key ingredient for my Easter dinner contribution.
Good news! I didn't crash! I didn't run into the side of an RV! I didn't spook the horses we passed on the road so they didn't buck up and kick me in the head! (I saw the whole scene go down in my head as we approached the trotting horses...an irrational possibility, perhaps, but I'd like to think it's natural for a new mother to assume something awful could happen to her while separated from her child.)
!! !!
We woke Sunday to Easter baskets, butter braids and other delicious breakfast treats. After church, Rolin promptly peed through his Easter outfit, and I quickly dipped strawberries in chocolate. After we cleaned up the respective messes, we headed to the Olmsteads' house for family Easter dinner.
After dinner, we made a Harlem Shake video:
Everyone from 8-month-old Rolin, to nearly 93-year-old Nanny was involved. I LOVE IT!
We ended up staying in Grandview until Monday as Justin had to go back to Yakima for a work to-do before we could head back Spokane. I'm glad we stayed longer than anticipated (even though we planned poorly on the diaper and extra clothes front); the weather was gorgeous, and, as always, there's no place like home!
I was recently reminded of a hilarious incident that we think requires documentation.
Before Justin and I were married, he went with me to my parents' house for Easter. If you know Justin well, you know he is a man who (unfortunately) forgets at least one thing when packing for (or returning from) a trip.
On this particular occasion, it was his deodorant.
A little background: Back in their high school days, Joe would always sneak into Matt's room to use his deodorant (who knows why). Matt grew tired of Joe's thievery, but instead of simply telling Joe to stop, Matt came up with a much craftier plan.
Matt removed the label from a stick of Old Spice deodorant and wrapped it around a deodorant-shaped stick of Icy Hot. He left the decoy on his dresser for an unsuspecting brother to find. Had it gone down the way it was intended, Joe would have quickly learned to never ever again pilfer Matt's deodorant.
However, Joe never fell for it and the Icy-Hot-disguised-as-Old Spice was left in Matt's room, even after Joe went to college. I'm sure Matt figured if Joe had struck once, he would definitely strike again.
Fast forward to Easter: Justin discovers Easter morning he had forgotten his deodorant. As luck would have it, there sat a stick of Old Spice on the dresser. Justin applied the "deodorant" and quickly realized something was wrong.
Just picture it...a boyfriend at his woman's parents' house suddenly has burning armpits but doesn't know why. Doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what's wrong or how to take care of the situation without drawing too much attention to himself.
He runs into the bathroom to try to scrub off what he's now discovered to be Icy Hot. Justin says he straight up threw up from the pain. "It hurt so bad!" This was all happening as we were all waiting in the living room for Justin to come down so we could go to church...waiting...waiting... Finally he appeared and reluctantly shared the details.
We can all laugh now. Well, we all laughed then. Matt was quite proud of his success, no matter the trap had been triggered by someone other than whom it had been originally set. It worked!
The decoy sits on Matt's dresser to this day. You've been warned!
"Where are you? Hello? Where did you go? Is anyone here? Hello?!!!!"
Have you ever been in your yard, house or anywhere, for that matter, only to turn around and find the people you thought were with you are...gone? Simply nowhere to be found?
You search for them in obvious places, like the bathroom, or under a pile of blankets...you know, in case they are hiding in the pile, waiting to jump out and scare you. But they're not. Nor are they in the kitchen making you sandwich. They've just seemingly disappeared.
Fortunately, in most cases, the missing person isn't missing at all. They've usually just stepped out the back door for a sec, popped behind some shrubbery to relocate a sprinkler, stepped into the closet to get something buried deep within or ran down to the basement when your back was turned.
No matter where they've run off to, the person left behind (haha, no pun intended) suffers a few moments of sheer terror, thinking thoughts such as this:
"The rapture has happened and I didn't make it!! Ohhhh no!!"
But oh, what sweet relief washes over you as soon as you find the missing someone, right?
I have a very distinct memory of this happening to me as a child. Mom and I had been outside. She then told me she was going inside. I went in a few minutes later but could not find mother anywhere. Not even in the
basement!
...Panic. Stress. Fear. Sweaty armpits. What should I gather to keep safe, fed and warm? Where is the big box of matches? I should find them immediately and put them in a waterproof bag...
Oh. She was just STILL OUTSIDE. Behind some shrubbery, relocating a sprinkler. THE NERVE!
Something similar happens in my own home more frequently now that we live in a house with more than one level. Well, really, now that we live in a space where you can't see in every room by simply walking through the front door.
We've lived in some small spaces...including an RV. But I digress...
A few months ago, I went outside to put on our new license plates. I yelled my intention upstairs and then headed out. Ten or so minutes later I see Justin stick his head outside, then throw his hands up in relieved exasperation. "I thought for sure the rapture happened, I've been looking for you all over the house!"
Apparently he hadn't heard me declare my aforementioned intention.
Then there's last night. As I headed upstairs, I asked Justin to bring Rolin up in five minutes. Instead of getting ready to feed Rolin, I started looking for something in the back of our closet, so when Justin looked in our room he didn't see me. (This makes our closet sound big...it's not.) I wasn't in Rolin's room, the bathroom or the guest room. I'd seemingly disappeared!
...Panic. Stress. Fear. Sweaty armpits. What should I gather to keep safe, fed and warm? Where is the big box of matches? I should find them immediately and put them in a waterproof bag...
He checked all the rooms again and thankfully spotted me in our room just as he started to tell Rolin he thought the two of them had been left behind.
Sweet relief!
Is the rapture anyone else's first assumption? I think it's hysterical that it's the first conclusion Justin and I jump to when we can't find each other in our own home.
Unless you live under a rock, are a male or didn't get yourself knocked up and then proceeded to watch the Today Show or nearly every hour of the summer Olympic coverage, then you've heard "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepson.
The song is everywhere. People have been making up and recording dances all summer based on the performance-gone-viral from the Harvard Baseball Team and the response from the SMU Women's Rowing Team.
Well, below you'll find Rolin's version. It's a combination of both Harvard's and SMU's. Just use your imagination...he pretty much does all the right moves. If you're put off by cute baby stretches, grunts, coughs or the occasional toot, then don't watch it :)
We swaddle him at night; in the morning, when we open up the swaddle, he goes through a series of stretches; almost like he is catching up on what he missed. This is all done with his eyes closed and can last 3-5 minutes! I don't know if all babies love stretching this much, but it's an adorable part of his morning wake-up routine.
In this video, I love when he finally opens his eyes and realizes I'm there, he looks at me as if to say, "Oh, have you been here the whole time?"
Also, the look on his face at the end, after passing some more morning gas, is priceless. It gets me every time!
A friend that had seen Team Thompson through many adventures, countless movies, laughs, tears, good news, late night snacks, lazy weekends and panic attacks. This friend was also hospitable to strangers and friends alike, and stuck by our side through the five times we've moved in the last five years.
Though strings of insults were thrown its way, particularly around tax-return season or any time we moved, this friend remained a constant in our lives.
You could say this friend has been there through sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer.
This friend was our couch.
Our OLD couch, that is.
Old Couchy in San Jose
WE GOT A NEW COUCH!
The crew loading a few of the boxes into Justin's work rig.
Old Couchy was a truly heavy beast, complete with a hide-a-bed. We have reason to believe it had invisible lead bricks sewn into its cushions. Justin absolutely despised that couch, but, really, only when we had to move it.
I inherited Old Couchy from friends Sarah and Eric when I lived with Tara & Ami in Seattle's Fremont neighborhood. Eric and Justin moved it into my old apartment, destroying only one and a half exit signs and scraping the stairway walls along the way. Upon setting it down, Justin proclaimed, "When you move out, this thing is staying here!"
Luckily Joe was in town when we decided to get the new couch.
Then Justin and I got married a while later and, upon reviewing our finances, decided to move the couch into our new apartment in Lake Forest Park. My dad and bro Joe helped with that move. Upon setting it down in the new place, Justin proclaimed, "When we move out, this thing is staying here!"
OK, one of the main reasons we got the new couch was because Joe was in town.
Then we learned we were moving to California. Old Couchy stayed in LFP while we lived in my parents' RV in CA while waiting out our LFP lease to be up and trying to save money for a new place in CA. After getting all our ducks in a row and finding an apartment in Mountain View, CA, we reviewed our finances and decided to bring Old Couchy to CA. My bro Joe also helped with that move, both out of the apartment in WA and into our new home in CA. Old Couchy smashed only one finger along the way. Upon setting the couch down in CA, Justin proclaimed, "When we move out, this thing is staying here!"
It takes a lot of muscle and stamina to move Old Couchy.
From Mountain View we moved to San Jose where our rent was a bit higher. Upon reviewing our finances, we decided to bring Old Couchy with us to the South Bay. We had a crew of friends help with that move, but still, upon setting down the couch, Justin proclaimed, "When we move out, this thing is staying here!"
Not exactly sure what to do with the old while bringing in the new, we moved the beast out on to the porch.
Soon after we got settled into our place in San Jose, we received our tax return. Upon reviewing our finances, we decided to see about getting a new couch. It was also the weekend Justin's brother came to visit. We spent the better part of Saturday testing out new couches....leather couches, microfiber couches, couches with ottomans, couches in the shape of an L.
In no time at all, the neighbors expressed interest, and Old Couchy had a new home.
As you know, we recently moved again...this time back to WA. A professional crew of movers packed up and transported our belongings this time, so while Old Couchy skirted ridicule during this latest move, Justin still looked at the couch with hatred that burns with the heat of a thousand suns. When it came time to arrange the living room, Justin proclaimed, "This is the last time I want to move this couch!"
So he began plotting. Plotting ways to convince me it was time to part with Old Couchy. "We'll have more visitors now so we'll need more places to sit." "See how it dips down in the middle?" "See how it slides so easily on the wood floor?" "Don't you think a darker colored couch with a different fabric would make for easier baby barf clean up?" "You hate this couch, too, don't you? DON'T YOU?!"
The weekend Joe my bro came to town, and after MUCH discussion as to whether or not it was the right time, we went to Coscto and purchased a new couch.
New couch!
We weren't sure what we'd do with Old Couchy, but as Joe and Justin moved the beast out to the porch -- not without much moaning, groaning and calling of names -- the neighbors walked by.
The neighbors are now the proud new owners of Old Couchy.
I'll miss Old Couchy. As I said, it's seen Team Thompson through a lot of adventures, but change is good.
And so is a new place to rest our weary rears.
In the spirit of Easter, I thought I'd direct your attention to a hilarious blog post penned a few years ago by my love.
Summary: Early-morning egg hunting was new to Justin when we first met, but he learned quickly that egg hunting happens before church in the Emerson family.
This post is VERY late, considering it's from October. If I remember correctly, October was a busy month for us. Justin had a few business trips, I went to WA for a wedding, my parents came for a visit and both Justin and I had a terrible, awful, no good, very bad flu. Not to mention my birthday was sprinkled along in there, and we also went to an awesome Halloween/costume-themed birthday for Heather B!
That, dear readers, is what this post is about.
Justin and I enjoy the show 30 Rock. Justin pointed out long ago that at times it seems I'm quite Liz Lemon-y in my walk, attire and overall approach to situations. At least at home. At work I usually head-scream things like, "Nerds!" "Where's my mac n' cheese?" "What the what?!" and "Shut it down!"
Also, I have more cardigans in my closet than I should admit. Furthermore, I've come to realize, over the last six seasons of the show, that Liz and I have a similar Gap-based wardrobe.
Anyway...
We hemmed and hawed over what to dress as for Heather's Halloween/costume birthday party. At one point I was going to wear a spare lampshade on my head and Justin was going to dress as Brick Tamland from Anchorman because he "loves lamp."
We shut that down.
Then, in the night, it came to me. We would be 30 Rockers. Justin would wear a suit and be Jack while I'd wear what I usually wear, along with my glasses, and be Liz. A few days ahead of the party, we changed our minds because wearing a suit on a Saturday was not what Justin wanted to do. He also wasn't too keen on the idea of shaving off his beard.
Selecting a hat phrase was a big decision -- there are many from which to choose. I liked "Extra Cheese" (are you surprised?), another runner-up was "Expert Ninja," but we settled on "Night Beast." I also printed some TGS signs to tape to our clothes, making them more official.
Justin and me as Liz and Frank
Good thing I'd saved a pair of 3D glasses from our trip to Avatar. They made the perfect accessory!
The exciting thing? As soon as I opened the door for a guest at Heather's place, the guest guessed, "You're Liz Lemon?!"
And she was right.
We also really liked Brandon's costume. He went as Joaquin Phoenix during his I'm Still Heresituation. Pretty good impression if I do say so myself!
Brandon as Joaquin Phoenix from I'm Still Here.
And Heather, the cake master, also made this awesome cake, inspired by Martha Stewart. Heather makes some sweet looking and tasting cakes! It was a great way to end the day.
Justin and I have been looking at cribs. White cribs, small cribs, brown cribs, fancy cribs, blond cribs; 4-way convertible cribs, regular ol' plain cribs...there are many from which to choose.
We've narrowed it down to a white convertible crib, but have yet to make a final decision...we've had a few other decisions to make in the last month. You understand.
The convertible crib is a nice idea -- it can change from crib to toddler bed, from toddler bed to a "big kid" bed and from "big kid" bed to to a full-size bed; complete with headboard and footboard.
Justin and I have had several giggle fests about what it would be like for future BT to bring home his/her college sweetheart and for BT to show said sweetheart it's childhood room...
Imagine with us, if you will, future BT saying, "See these teething marks along the headboard and footboard? I did that. This used to be my crib. And these over here? They're from my older sibling(s?). Also, this is where I drew on the crib with a permanent marker...mom hasn't been able to bring herself to clean it off or paint over it because she thinks it's 'cute,' and dad won't sand it down because it's 'nostalgic.' Since I'm the youngest, I got to see the crib through to its full conversion. Yea."
I'm hoping to create or invest in some teething protectors when the time comes, just to save future BTs the embarrassment of 25-year-old teething marks on their full-size bed.
I often wonder what all our wall-sharing neighbor can hear Team Thompson doing, saying, singing or thinking. Neighbor lives alone so he is inherently more quiet than we. He has no one to talk to, no one to scream “kill that bug!” to, no one to serenade from the shower, no one to listen to rants about poor work days, no one to laugh with until he cries while watching reruns of Frasier or 30 Rock.
Overall, he keeps quiet. He even sleeps in on the weekends until just one hour of daylight remains...but that’s another story for another time.
There is, however, the witching hour. It falls anywhere between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. about every other night, just as Team Thompson is tucking itself in for a long winter’s nap.
Last night was one of those nights.
We were both just about five minutes into REM sleep when I woke to a bang bang bang, hammer hammer hammer.
See, it’s our bedroom wall that butts up to Neighbor’s abode.
Bang bang bang, hammer hammer hammer. Bang bang bang, hammer hammer hammer.
It soon woke Justin. We kept still for about five minutes, just listening. I made myself a deal, saying that if he went on for an additional, and generous, five minutes more, I’d have to go over there.
Bang bang bang, hammer hammer hammer. Bang bang bang, hammer hammer hammer.
Up I got, grabbed my robe, and headed for the front door. I waited outside his door to see if the hammering would continue.
It did.
I knocked…magically in-sync with the hammering.
I knocked again…just as Neighbor started hammering again.
I knocked a third time, louder. The hammering stopped. The porch light was flipped on and it blinded me. Neighbor opened the door, just a crack, and I whispered, “we’re sleeping.”
Neighbor apologized, he is quite kind, by the way, and I replied, “ok, night night,” and went back inside.
Then JT and I lay giggling and making jokes about what it is we think Neighbor only feels fit to do after 11 p.m., or once the neighborhood is asleep.
“Maybe he’s making an armada of tiny wooden ships,” said Justin.
“Maybe he’s making small, wooden puppets that come to life in the moonlight,” said Christine.
“Maybe he’s hulling out a fallen tree to make a canoe,” said Justin.
“Maybe he’s getting started on that fence he keeps talking about,” said Christine.
This went on until we laughed ourselves back to sleep.
If you find yourself invited to a wedding anytime soon, you should know that you're not cool if you don't know how to "Dougie."
Oh, I'm down with the kids (name that movie). I can Macarena, Thriller or Boot Scootin' Boogie circles around anyone (ok, ok...no, I can't, but at least I know what those dances are and can fake my way through them). I even know how to do a spiced up version of running in place to dance along to Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO.
But...Dougie? I'd never even heard the song before Joe and Brianna's wedding.
WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?!
I was out shakin' it on the dance floor, after someone finally coaxed me out there in the first place, and was busy dancing with my cousins and fellow bridesmaids when the Dougie song came on.
Suddenly, a circle formed. You know, the kind of circle that formed at high school dances when it was time for break dancing.
What? That never happened at your high school dances? Well it did at mine.
So, people formed a circle. People began swaying side to side. I continued bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet...my standard dancing move. People began swaying more, all in sync to the rhythm of the music (dancing to the beat...it's a novel idea, right). Then, it happened: people started going crazy...I thought it was some sort of Bohemian, Rasta-love hippy dancing. People were rolling their arms into the air, they were spinning and doing moves as if they were greasing up their hair.
One of the bridesmaids...who must have seen my panicked look or noticed that I was the only one not swaying to the beat...came over and said, "put your arms out like this [steering wheel movement to the side] and then do it on the other side."
"Oh! Ok, yeah," I said.
The minute she turned back around to the circle, I steering wheel-shimmied myself right off the dance floor and over to the bar.
I still haven't heard the Dougie song on any station I listen to in the Bay Area.
Now, go get your notebook, put on your best dancing shoes, stand in front of the full-length mirror and then press play.
Note: this video is ok for all audiences...you can look up your own Dougie video, if you so choose.
Day 4 posted a while back. However, I forgot to post this:
The Emersons and the Thompsons parted ways on day 5 -- the Emersons headed back to Grandview, while Justin's parents and bro headed back to Aberdeen. Justin and I stayed an extra day and night because vacation was planned before Joe and Brianna set a wedding date...and as luck would have it, the wedding was planned for the following weekend. A special thanks goes out to my boss who let me stay in OR/WA instead of going back to Cali to work and then fly back to WA for the wedding. He said I could work from home in between events!
With an extra day on our hands, we decided it was time to do what most grown ups do on vacation when they have a vacation house to themselves.
Went to town to watch the final Harry Potter movie.
It was glorious.
It was a blustery day in Bend, so we also went to the Columbia outlet store for new outerwear.
On the way back to Sunriver we stopped off to hike to Benham Falls. The clouds looked ominous, but we decided to proceed...our new Columbia outerwear made us feel invincible.
Mind you, it did rain. Oh, did it rain. But, the clouds did make for some beautiful pictures.
As luck would have it, we had a bottle of bug spray in the car and decided to take it with us. It seemed every mosquito was on the prowl that day, and they had it out for Justin. And Justin wasn't having it.
If he would stop for even 20 seconds, they would attack. Not even the bug spray could keep them away. We reached the falls, took a few pictures, felt the first of the rain drops and decided, "well, if you've seen one white-water water fall, you've seen them all," and bid Benham Falls adieu. We made it back to the car only half soaking wet.
Why do boys like to climb out on rock ledges? I took this picture just in case I needed to show the park ranger in the event Justin slipped and fell.
Closer to the resort I saw a sign for the Lava Cast Forest and asked to drive out to it. Remember...I was diggin' the lava on this trip, so having seen the signs up and down the highway for this Lava Cast Forest, I wanted to check it out. The rain had let up, so Justin agreed.
Now, usually, when driving a car, the driver reads signs around him to simply be informed and aware of their surroundings/location. At least to be aware of the distance between point A and point B. Well, my dear Justin is a different case. Signs mean nothing to him. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.
I, however, did see the sign after we exited from HWY 97, which read: Lava Cast Forest, 9 miles.
Knowing full well that Justin would have tried to convince me we didn't actually need to see the Lava Cast Forest, had he been privy to the distance, I decided to bite my tongue and enjoy the scenery.
Suddenly, the road went from smooth and paved to bumpy and unpaved. We slowed down. We slowed much. There was not a soul to be seen. Anywhere. Some deer ran in front of us a ways ahead, but that was it. Justin started to get visibly agitated, and it wasn't just because the road was bumpy and unpaved. A few more minutes went by and then...I saw it: a paper plate stapled to a tree, acting as a mile post marker. The number? Two. We'd gone just two miles.
Justin didn't see that "sign" either. If he had, I don't think he would have thought much of it because he didn't know the forest was nine miles off the freeway in the first place. Eventually he asked how far in this place was, so I told him...
...............silence................
Teehee.
We rounded a corner and saw the entrance sign. Again, not a single soul is out visiting this sight. Odd, I thought, for it being so well advertised along the highway. A small info sign at the entrance told us that along the trail there are trees that were surrounded by lava, but didn't burn immediately because the lava was pahoehoe so the trees eventually burned or died, leaving casts, or molds, of the trees behind. In other cases, the trees grew up out of the lava in weird ways, affected by the lava, like so:
I really thought...no, hoped...there would be more than just a few trees looking like that...simply for the sake of my husband who was a good sport and drove out to the middle of nowhere to appease his wife's temporary lava obsession.
I scooted ahead to see what else there was to see, leaving Justin behind to take pictures of the trees. I was soon out of Justin's sight when I heard it: a low, breathy growl. I stopped in my tracks and slowly looked over my shoulder, expecting to see a werewolf, an alien, a killer orca, a bear, a mountain lion.
I saw nothing. But I heard the breathy growl again.
I turned around and started to book it back down the trail, as fast as my poor-choice flip flops could carry me. I said to Justin, as I scurried past, that it was time to go. I noticed that he was taking his time, snapping a few more pictures, so I said louder, "It's time to GO!"
It is a lovely picture of the flowers...
He replied, "Oh, haha, do you have to go to the bathroom? Cuz it's about, haha, a thousand miles of gravel road away."
I opted to keep quiet. I dared not let the forest monster know where I was by following my voice.
Finally we got to the car, safe and sound, and I told him about the growl. He let out a nervous laugh, looked around, noting again how we're in the middle of nowhere with no one around, and then hit the gas.
Apparently we missed the best part of the trail...the actual lava casts...We only saw trees coming up through the lava...we saw no casts. Boo. Maybe someday we'll go back. Maybe.
We celebrated making it out alive by going to Goody's for ice cream where I ordered one of the biggest banana splits I've ever seen. I couldn't move after eating it. It was a good end to the day.
Also, and I'm not ashamed to point it out, but it's apparent my Oil of Olay night eye gel hasn't worked a wink, no pun intended, for the last three years. Perhaps I should look into a different brand. Any suggestions?
I'll spare you a recap of Day 6 -- it was spent on HWY 97, where I fought with my wireless internet card, worked in the car, drank a lot of coffee and ate a lot of white cheddar popcorn. We also stopped for a picture of this from the top of the Horse Heaven Hills.
He wasn't too happy about it. I can't imagine anyone really is when it comes down to it. He was a good sport, though, and took it like a champ. Well, until I hung the "Celebrating 30" sign (pictured above) on the front door. He asked that I take it down until later in the afternoon.
As we have a backyard now, I decided to have a s'mores party for Justin's birthday. With [surprise] fire pit in hand, I checked the forecast and sent out e-invites for a supposedly rain-free S'mores Smorgasbord at the Thompsons.
My friend, Heather, helped come up with a few snazzy s'mores suggestions, as did our friend Google.com, and we went to work on the line-up:
The menu. Click the picture to get a better view. Layout and drawing by the talented Heather Brackett. If I'd tried to draw marshmallows, they'd be stick marshmallows, and that wouldn't look good.
We decorated the back yard and I also stocked up on Duraflame logs, only to find out later that those logs aren't meant for cooking, but we'll get to that in a bit.
Heather came over early to help get the s'mores smorgasbord set up. By that time, bigger, dark clouds were rolling in and looking ominous. I shrugged them off, remembering my weather.com app had shown no warning of rain. Heather's hubs and daughter came over for pre-s'mores hotdogs...
Clouds, smhouds. Those couldn't possibly have rain in them, right Bracketts?
...and as we were eating, it started to rain.
We shrugged it off and tried to pretend it wasn't really raining...because the weather.com app told us it wouldn't.
Then it started to rain more. Then folks started calling to see if we were still going to have a s'mores party.
I was determined to have that party...afterall, it's not every day your husband turns 30!
So, Heather and I stood watch over the s'mores spread while we waited for the rain to pass. It finally did and peeps started coming over for roasting and toasting.
It was also around this time we learned Duraflame logs aren't meant for cooking food. Thank goodness for Dan who ran to the store to get real wood. The last thing I wanted to do was poison my guests...more than we'd already poisoned ourselves by eating hotdogs cooked over Duraflames...oops.
But that's when the real fun began. We took out the flaming Duraflames and tried to get them to stop burning. Those suckers burn, I'll tell ya. I also thought I'd help by sprinkling them with my watering can.
But then they called in the big guns.
And we tried to smoke out the neighborhood. I'm surprised the fire department didn't show up! Here's a video of all the excitement:
The rest of the night was great fun. Eventually some worked up the courage to try the Elvis s'more, bacon and all.
If you learn anything from this post, aside from not using Duraflame logs to cook food, know this: the Elvis s'more ain't that bad! If have bacon in your freezer, I'll forgive you for abandoning the rest of this post to go make yourself an Elvis.
Justin was also a good sport and wore the silly "Celebrating 30" hat I got him to wear for all the pictures with our guests. It really is a silly hat, isn't it? Sorry, dear, but thank you for going along with my birthday excitement!
Top left: Justin, Rich, Jen; (top right): Matt, Justin, his dip, Amanda; (bottom left): Justin, his dip, Dan, Laura; (bottom right): Christine, Justin, Mike, Liz (& soon-to-be baby Olivia)
Sunday, Justin's actual birthday, was exciting again. We opened gifts in the morning, went out for donuts with the Bracketts in the afternoon and headed out to a secret location for dinner in the evening.
Click the picture for a bigger image.
Justin was so excited about his new shirt, he couldn't keep his eyes open!
Now...I'd heard of this secret location from ads on the radio. It's called Grill 'Em -- a steakhouse where you can grill your own steak. Now, if there is anyone who loves a steak prepared a certain way (rare...well, raw), it's my husband. I thought it'd be the perfect place.
We walked up the restaurant only to hear "Pour some sugar on me!" coming from behind the doors. Not quietly, either. From the sound and the smell of the place, I thought I was going into Shakers (or the Crazy Squirrel or whatever Shakers is called now. We'll just call it Shakers, ok?). There was indeed a big grill, but no one was using it.
The next song that came blaring, and I mean blaring, through the speakers was "Living Dead Girl." While this place would be awesome with a group of friends while watching a football game or something, it wasn't what I thought it would be and felt bad...see...I'd made a big deal about this place, expecting it to be a nice place for a nice steak dinner for my dearest. I started laughing. Almost uncontrollably. I looked at him, he started laughing. We couldn't hear over the music to speak to each other. They brought us the beers we ordered, we gulped them down and then both pulled out our phones to look for a new venue.
We ended up at what I suspect was the most expensive restaurant on Santana Row and kept chuckling about the events of the day well into the night.
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