Here's the thing. Sometimes (OK, often), I do things so mindless that TH and I just have to laugh (to the point of tears).
We've been enjoying our new barbecue (charcoal - yay!! propane - boo!!) lately, and with it, I have revived an old love - s'mores. What could be better than ooey-gooey marshmallows, melty chocolate, and crunchy graham cracker?? (That was rhetorical and I really don't want an answer.) When we barbecue, we have the garage door open and have been using the back of TH's truck as a shelf. So the other day, I put the bag of marshmallows in the back of the truck, had my s'mores, made a mess, enjoyed myself thoroughly, and went back inside. This was Sunday.
Cut to Tuesday, when TH comes back from commute, work, and drum corps rehearsal at 9:30 pm, and says to me, "Guess what's in the back of the truck?" No idea.
He holds up the bag of marshmallows. Still intact. It sat through hours in the sun, a trip on the freeway, and God-knows-what-else. Still intact.
We just about died laughing.
(All dumbs are not blonde.)