Errant thoughts

Why yes, I *am* eating a giant spoonful of Nutella.

My husband washed and folded about 4 baskets of laundry last night, and even put away most of it. He didn't ask me to help at all, and he didn't get annoyed at me for doing something else. That isn't the definition of romance, but it just might be the definition of love.

We spend a lot of our youth trying to measure up to what other people think of us. Then we start trying to measure up to what we think of ourselves. I think the second one is harder. Then I guess we become crotchety old people and say, "Screw measuring up. I want a nap."

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