I am a ditz. I can hear the collective gasp of shock (rising from the five people that have read my blog...), but it's true. I realized it on Saturday. Maybe I knew it before, but I kinda forgot, like blondes tend to do sometimes. :-)
Saturday was a nice day; I didn't have to study, since I'd been studying all week, and it was a lovely, snowy day. I love snow; it's lovely the way it drifts lazily past the windows, or gets swirled around in great gusts of wind.
Mom had a headache all day, but we braved the weather and went grocery shopping in the morning. We also went by the library. Mom said we didn't need to go in: we'd just drop the books in the "book suppository." Yuck!! "I think you mean 'depository,'" I said, still grimacing from the mental image of a book-shaped suppository. (if any readers do not know what a suppository is, I welcome you to do a Google search. NOT an image search, just word search!)
After we finished our shopping and book dropping (ha ha, our shoppings and droppings?), we came home. I worked on my scrapbook between loads of laundry. Mom had a little nap in the afternoon, and I sneaked into her bathroom and cleaned it so she wouldn't have to. She still had a headache when she woke up, and it was time for her to do Grandma's bath. So while Mom did that, I made spaghetti for supper. I was going to warm up the sauce in a pan, but then thought it would be hot enough if I put it in the hot pan after I cooked the spaghetti. Yes, I did remember to drain the spaghetti. I did not remember to put the biscuits in the oven first, though, so we had to wait a long time for them to be done, making the spaghetti and sauce even cooler. Even after all the food was on the table we had to wait a while for Dad and Grandpa to come to the table.
So we had barely warm spaghetti, some salad, vegetables, and yummy garlic cheesy rolls, served with pleasant dinner time conversation.
After supper I turned to Mom and opened my mouth to say something, when I caught myself. I started laughing. "What's so funny?" she asked quizzically.
I couldn't stop laughing as I told her, "I almost said, 'Thanks, Mom, for cooking such a nice supper!'" Yes, indeed, I almost thanked Mom for making a meal I had made myself. If that's not ditzy, I'm not sure what is.
