Dill the weed

I made brownies today. Somehow, even though I cooked them for 50% more time than they normally get, they still came out pretending to be undercooked. The centre ones are so gooey they make me want to call them goosh. Except they are not Sultan. They were falling apart all over the place and gunking up on the pizza cutter that sliced them nicely and so I got very full from the tasty that is my baked goods.

Gave most of the brownies to Lisa, kept the rather uncooked ones because…. I just did. It’s what I do.

Jake and I met Lisa and Michelle at Senor Panchos tonight for some delicious mexican eats. I, of course, had chicken fajitas. I will always have chicken fajitas. I had something different once and it just wasn’t tasty. Must stick to the tasty. We had sopapillas for dessert and now I feel… borderline food-baby-ish.

I burped the entire way home. The kind of burps that make me sound possessed. From the moment we parted with the two lovely ladies till the moment we got home, I was expelling mouth-gas. And trying to drive. Hard to do both, really.

I am so tired.

Even though it was Lisa’s birthday in July, I only gave her her gift today. Digital photo frame, with an SD card with some pictures on it. I only put the pictures on it this afternoon, because I am THAT GOOD at procrastination. So I had to quick-flick through the photos I scanned from albums that make up Jake’s first 12 years. He was such a cute child. One day we are going to have THE MOST ADORABLE baby mutants EVER. It’s already a proven fact. I don’t know how, but it is.

You know what you should do? Dill the weed. (that is one of my favouritest things to say to Jake lately. I don’t know why. It came up in one of our late night ramble conversations a while back and now it just pops up at random moments.)