Friday, 23 February 2018

S N O W D A Y

We won't talk about hockey today. No sir.

Let's talk about Dalton.

You know, Teflon Jesus. 

Who sent me a text this morning with  SNOW DAY surrounded by all of the snowflake, snowman and skiing emojis even though he doesn't ski and has never sent an emoji in his life. I put the black heart at the end of every single text I send but grown men don't use those things, I think, hardly ever.

Dalton texts me from bed fairly often. He is quintessentially lazy and will conduct all of his business from his bed and who is going to stop him? He works hard when he works and hardly works when he doesn't have to and if he's home he's embracing just being home. They try to teach me how to live in the moment but I am rigid and uptight, resistant to the best advice. I'm enthusiastic to a fault, however, breathless in my still flu-addled head here so I'm game for everything and so I text him back.

We should have waffles in the sauna

Ew, Bridge

But it would be going from warm to cold to hot to cold to warm. It would be amazing

No one eats in the sauna

We'll be the first then. Pioneers! Gastrosauna-ites. We can write a cookbook! Oh My GOD. Hot rock cooking and the ultimate busy person's guide to multitasking while relaxing!

You're insane

Yes but what does that have to do with anything?

How about waffles in the kitchen?

If that's my consolation prize I'm okay with that

Meet you in 15 :)

k :)

(You thought I was going to talk about something else Dalton-related, didn't you?)