ust today, in the blink of an eye, the spirit of Christmas hit me. I don’t know what did it, maybe it was the super foggy morning that reminded me of the snow of a Minesota winter, or maybe it was the Christmakah episode of The OC I had just watched, but it hit me like a brick. So, in the spirit of my great mood and wonderful day (A has been a remarkable boy this morning, it’s like he grew up since his nap) I give you a little conversation my husband J and I had just the other day (completely un-Christmas related).

So here we are sitting on the sofa watchig tv, probably a re-run of CSI, when J says:

“I’ve deceided that I want to read and write more dirty limericks”

“… ”

“You just never know when you might need to use one”

There are several questionable things about this conversation, the first is the subject matter in whole - DIRTY LIMERICKS! Why in the world he was thinking of this I will never know. The second thing is use of the word “more” - Like he really doesn’t take full advantage of how many dirty limericks he could be writing. Lastly, When do you really need a dirty limerick? In any case, one of the greatest things about my husband is that I can never begin to guess what will come out of his mouth, he always can make me laugh.

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