The Revolution Is My Boyfriend Shirt (Messy) Astro Memes
I worked my butt off in high school to get in here and am fully paying for The Revolution Is My Boyfriend Shirt (Messy) Astro Memes education with scholarships, or else my Mommy and Daddy went here and they’re paying for it all and I only got in because they both made some calls. We’re the oldest institution of higher learning in the state, yet we’ve always sucked at football. Its ok, we’re just paying our way to be in the Big 12. The only teams that win anything are the baseball team and women’s lacrosse but even thatβs a little too dyke-ish for the rest of the Baptist General Convention. We tell our parents we go to church on Sunday mornings, but really we all get up, get dressed and go to IHOP. Our veins are pumped of Dr. Pepper and we’re always wearing a school shirt that some frat or club or dance or 11 o’clock MWF class made. And mandatory Chapel? What is this, communism? It’s ok though I guess; I only came here to find a spouse; however it’s harder than I thought with the visitation hours being 1 pm to 6 pm every day, so I just date one hall at a time. I go to Baylor, where a ’95 silver Accord is actually considered the nicest car driven by a faculty member and the ghetto-est car driven by a student. I am a Bear.
I donβt want a The Revolution Is My Boyfriend Shirt (Messy) Astro Memes just because a holiday and tradition say that one should be given. If you have truly thought of me and found something meaningful, any random Tuesday is the time to give it. A candy bar from my husband when Iβve had a rough day means more to me than a diamond necklace on Valentineβs. But what I think sums all of the reasons up is that receiving gifts is just not my love language. The love languages arenβt just about romance, and there is even a quiz for kids. Gifts is dead last for me, and that explains a lot! Anyone who knows me well would know that gifts of service, quality time, or words of affirmation mean so much more, and cannot be purchased from a store or wrapped. Yes, there is tremendous joy to be experienced in giving, but that isnβt likely if the person doesnβt like what youβve given. The joy comes from making the person feel loved and seeing their happiness with your offering. So if someone tells you they βdonβt want anythingβ, Iβd suggest asking them how you can show your affection or appreciation for them. Suggest going out to a fun new restaurant together, helping them tackle a chore theyβve been dreading around the house, or writing them a letter instead. Be open to the concept of non-traditional βgiftsβ.
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The family has moved into their own home now, an older home (still nice, but no high ceilings and not many elf hiding places!), and the children have both multiplied AND grown older, taller, and The Revolution Is My Boyfriend Shirt (Messy) Astro Memes. The Elf game is now the bane of the mom’s existence. Hiding it is a task. Several times this year, the Elf hasn’t had to go back to Santa because the kids were SO good the day before, thus explaining why he remained in the exact same hiding spot as the previous day. One evening, the mom is flustered. She finally hands the Elf to the dad and says,Β you hide the #%)(#^# elf today, but hide it high, because Big M is testing the waters and going to touch the #%(^#^ thing.” Dad’s answer is less than ideal – not only is the perch precarious, but it’s easily within reach of at least the oldest child, if not the second oldest as well. And it’s possible the elf is also judging the thermostat temp, which is an ongoing passive aggressive battle between mom (who sits at home and freezes all day) and dad (who pays the bills, but also works in his nice warm office all day).
I was just starting to build my flock of chickens from the four I already had (one rooster, three hens) to a The Revolution Is My Boyfriend Shirt (Messy) Astro Memes of ten. I bought six little two day old chicks from the local feed store – assured by the staff that all six would grow to be beautiful hens. Since I already had a rooster – and two roosters rarely get along – so wanted to be sure these were female. I named my chickens after dead movie stars (yes trulyβ¦ donβt judge) but my Aunt Delores wanted one named after her, so I chose a Golden Phoenix chick and named her βDeloresβ. When Delores was eight weeks old, I began to have suspicions that she was edging towards a gender change. Delores was quite a bit larger than her step sisters, and was growing a more pronounced comb and longer tail feathers than the typical hen. However, denial is a powerful characteristic, and I tried to convince myself that Delores really WAS a hen and maybe she was just big boned.