My husband told me yesterday he was going to lock me in our room with a glass of wine and a box of Cheezits and not let me out until I blogged about "something funny."  Or maybe it was a box of wine and a glass of Cheezits.  Whatever.  Let's not split hairs.

Is he supportive or just plain abusive?

Three reasons why I haven't been able to blog about anything funny lately:
1.  Life is not super dooper amusing right now.
2.  I'm still stinging from getting slapped down from my last blogging adventure.
3.  I can't think of anything to write.

What IS funny:  I'm writing this on a mattress on the floor of my in-law's house, with a large Care-Bear blanket.  In the attempt to make our new digs more romantic, we re-named the yellow one after Marvin Gaye and call him Let's-Get-It-On Bear.

That was so inappropriate.
But sort of funny.

A somewhat funny conversation I had not ten minutes ago with Moose:

Him:  Mom, why we not live in Michigan anymore?  (Stop judging his grammar, he's three, you monster).

Me:  Because we were fired by a bunch of holier-than-thou turkeys who have no sense of humor.

Not really.  I only thought that.  What I said was, my heart in my throat, feeling like my poor little pooky bear is scarred beyond belief and the load of guilt I feel for ruining his life weighs on me like a freight train,
'Because we just don't live there anymore...that's why....want some ice cream?  Or a pony?'

Not really.  I didn't say that either.  But I did ask him what he missed the most, stealing myself for the replies I thought I'd get of the big brothers we left behind, the friends, the house, the tractor...

Him:  I just REALLY miss the XBox.

Shallow, callous, or merely a realist?  You decide.

It is really nice to be back in the West.  I missed mountains frantically.  I love mountains.  We even have a volcano here.  It still has snow on it.  Hardly surprising since Mike and I are single handedly responsible for global climate change.  Al Gore should probably just draw and quarter us right now and save the planet.  The whales.  The spotted owls.

There are job prospects cookin.  Not wanting to jinx a single one, I am not telling you what they are.  Sorry.  Feeling superstitious.  Or fretful.  Or something.

See?  I'm not funny these days.  My funny bone is broken.  Give me topics, I shall try to oblige.  I have time.

In the meantime, until you topic spam me, I am sipping on wine, munching on Cheezits and hulu-ing dance shows.  Because in this time of unemployment, it's the responsible thing to do.