Spent the morning making a breakfast in bed for Kylee’s parents. Well, the toast was OK [at least it didn’t scorch your mouth when you bit it… I guess] and maybe the milk was a wee bit sour, but we can’t help it if the cows have decided to supply us with inferior quality dairy products, not can we??
I can’t say that Mr and Mrs Luis were delirious with joy when they saw what we had put up for them [who would actually be HAPPY with a platter of disgusting so-called breakfast thrust upon them in the wee hours of the morning??], but they did try to look as if they didn’t want to puke at the sight of our kitchen-masterpiece [if you consider feeble smiles and an absolutely sincere ‘Gee, you shouldn’t have,’ trying].
This has made me sit back and realize that swearing at the contestants of MasterChef Australia is NOT OK. [Even if they forgot that they put the pie in the oven and its going to be burnt to a crisp any second now]
Anyway, Kylee and I are going swimming in her Aunt Martha’s pool before lunch. We should be leaving any time now.
Just FYI, I’m writing this in the bathroom. No WAY would I risk getting caught spilling my guts out to a pad, so I decided to lock myself in the shower area and write, write, write.
Which reminds me, just this morning, before K and I began the BIB project for her parents, we crept into Edward’s bedroom and made him an apple pie bed. Serves him right for tying a ribbon on poor Genie’s tail [Genie is Kylee’s Yorkie].
>Laughs weird, evil gal laugh<
Sometimes I worry about myself, I really and truly do.