Arkanscott.
Meet Us.
Jennifer.
Mama. I have a problem with shopping. Night crier. Home decorating. Nacho cheese takes everything up a notch. Not afraid to love Britney Spears. Trying to own all the paper products in the world.
Nathan.
Wild man. Runs on tip toes. Into choo choos and trash trucks. Might miss something when he's asleep. Thomas is everything. Enjoys long walks. Are fruit snacks in the food pyramid? There is no one cuter.
Brian.
Daddy. Cleans his cleaning products. Works for the red roof. Should be in a rock band. Solves all family problems. Drinks way more creamer than coffee. Will be playing Xbox when he's 80.
Archives.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013, 8:35 PM
Well, things are pumping right along in the natural state.
After having our fill of Chilli's, Olive Garden and Subway, we decided to venture out last weekend and try a new place that we've never ever heard of. That place would be, The Flying Burrito. Our town does not have a Chipotle (gasp) so we decided to go with the next best thing.
Turns out, this was NOT the next best thing. When we were in line for our burritos, I, appearing over-eager to inform people we're new, told the guy that looked like The Situation, that I had never been here before! What should I order?! Tell me how to do it?! He did not share my enthusiasm, as he looked like he was going to die from a drug overdose and fall into the refried beans. He asked me if I had ever been to Subway and we moved on.
I went with the beef burrito, added the white queso and then made a huge mistake. I thought I added diced green peppers and it turns out they were jalapenos. Millions of them. Going down my esophagus. Honestly, it seems like what it would be if I made a burrito, only more cold. The queso was good, but then again, if you mess up white queso, we need to talk.
I took this picture because I was going to reference her feeling of release as her jalapeno filled burrito hit the toilet, but let's not.
I still have no photos to show you of the house because nothing is up on the walls and I have large piles of everything everywhere. It's the stuff you didn't know you had but always wanted to hide. Bobby pins, soap, business cards, my fourth grade memory box. Where does it all go.
Last night I screamed for Brian to come to our front door. We opened it up and heard 5,000 bobcats (Brian said they were coyotes) crying. I just imagined them all in a pile, wiggling all over each other. They sounded awful and like they were all in my front yard. It was the weirdest thing and then it all just stopped. Probably because they found a way into my house.
I am obsessed with the weather here. It requires us to wear coats. And it froze last night. The heats on. It all just fits. You KNOW Jenny doesn't like to be sweaty.