Inspiration...
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Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
My husband is chistoso, but not Mexican
One night, earlier this week...
4:55 pm: Hubby brings in the mail, including the 2010 census.
9:28 pm: Having a few extra minutes I decide to fill out the census.
10:22 pm: Getting ready for bed, I proudly tell the hubster that the census was on the door for mailing.
(Note: Ok, the census is NOT a big project. In fact, I think it took 3 minutes tops...including a discussion about whether the hubby having a father and grandfather -- both of Scottish decent -- born in Mexico, would even remotely qualify as being ethnically Mexican. My pride was in the turn around time, as most things get buried in my inbox for time periods more closely resembling geological ages that nanoseconds, regardless of project size. End of note.)
Giving myself a metaphorical pat on the back, I ask, "I got it finished and ready to send the same day! How often does that happen???"
10:23 pm: Without missing a beat, "Once every ten years?"
Wise guy.
4:55 pm: Hubby brings in the mail, including the 2010 census.
9:28 pm: Having a few extra minutes I decide to fill out the census.
10:22 pm: Getting ready for bed, I proudly tell the hubster that the census was on the door for mailing.
(Note: Ok, the census is NOT a big project. In fact, I think it took 3 minutes tops...including a discussion about whether the hubby having a father and grandfather -- both of Scottish decent -- born in Mexico, would even remotely qualify as being ethnically Mexican. My pride was in the turn around time, as most things get buried in my inbox for time periods more closely resembling geological ages that nanoseconds, regardless of project size. End of note.)
Giving myself a metaphorical pat on the back, I ask, "I got it finished and ready to send the same day! How often does that happen???"
10:23 pm: Without missing a beat, "Once every ten years?"
Wise guy.
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