Wow, I got burned....

literally.

Today the park was gorgeous. I was so happy to bask in the rays, and it really lifted my mood. My mood lately hasn't been so good, lol. Lots of good company, and the conversation was fun.

When I got home, I used the restroom, and as I was washing my hands, I looked up and did a double take. Holy cow -my face was red, with 2 large white circles where my sunglasses had sat. I went upstairs and took off my shirt, and sure enough - I had a white outline where I had been clothed.
Probably the funniest part of it all - I had pulled my socks up, so I have a VERY funny looking sock tan, only on the shin part of my legs.

I checked the kids - and poor DramaQueen did not fare well on her face and arms. She looks like she's wearing a mask and a pair of red sleeves. Thankfully, the rest of her body was pretty much covered by her shirt, skirt and socks.

So, we need to remember to reapply - it makes a difference!

Tomorrow is Friday. I am sooooo ready for the weekend. I honestly don't want to do ANYTHING but relax. Hongo offered to take me grocery shopping, but I HATE taking him. I end up with a cartful of stuff that ends up doubling my bill. It never fails. So I am going to try and do it before we go out to Lego Club.

My MIL called today. I have forgotten how long its been since I talked to her. I don't think I even updated her on the death certificate or picking up the remains. She wanted to give me the heads up on a dentist in our area that my FIL is investigating. Now I know not to pick him, lol. She also called to remind me that she doesn't have a date on her calendar for my drs appt. Har, har, MIL. Your point is made.....loud and clear. I will go. I just don't know when.

Hongo is very funny (not really) He told me just now that if I really want to make money, I should write children's stories, featuring my "hongo" character. Let me explain....

"hongo" is the spanish word for "mushroom" When I started dating my Hongo, I started calling him that because he would sit in his room with the windows shut and the curtains closed. Dark and humid. Thats how freaking mold grows. And mushrooms are just giant blobs of mold. (we are stretching here, stay with me) So to make my point, I began writing stories and poems about "(blank) the Hongo" I have a whole collection of them. I would write them in my mind and tell them to him as I scratched his back, or on our nightly telephone conversations. I even used to make illustrations, and when we would write notes at school, I'd draw him a little mushroom with eyes and a smile. The mushrooms would even have spots on them (to point out his freckles) and people would look at his notes like "??? mushrooms?"

So now you all know that I have an overactive imagination, and I can get really creative if and when I need to. It helps if the situation has a defective person in it (like my Hongo) so that I have some material.

Love you, Hongo!