Don't let me forget...

Almost daily I tell my sweet husband something that begins with, "Don't let me forget to..." and then I fill in the blank with some mundane but important activity. Most of the time it's things like "Don't let me forget to pay the rent," or "Don't let me forget to call my friend back," or "Don't let me forget to brush my teeth again."

**That's a joke, guys--dentists always brush their teeth AND floss, and you should, too.

Inevitably my sweet husband forgets to remind me of whatever task I asked him to remind me of and yet somehow the simple act of asking him to remind me actually reminds me to do it. With that concept in mind, I ask you--Don't let me forget to tell you about all the wonderful things that have happened in the last month that I have failed to blog about!

There's been a hand-drawn map,

a Thanksgiving celebration,

a Christmas party,

another Christmas party with a celebrity guest,

and on Thursday--the end of another semester of dental school.


I'll tell you all about it--just don't let me forget, ok?

Parents of the Year

Once, or perhaps even twice this week during class my mind has wandered off into far away places. I think that the quickly-approaching Christmas break has me thinking of Santa and time with family instead of gum disease and cavities. During one such time (I can't say when for fear that one of my teachers is secretly perusing my blog in search of students who don't pay attention in class), I decided that I would read my email instead of listen to the lecture.

I had received an email from another student whose mind had also wandered--it was titled "Parents of the Year Award." I opened it not knowing what was inside.

I soon had to literally cover my mouth to stifle the laughter from escaping. It was a series of pictures of kids and their parents (or rather, their parents not paying attention to them) getting into trouble. At certain points I couldn't hold in my giggles and some strange, airy snorts escaped into the classroom. My teacher was confused because there's certainly nothing funny about gum disease.

Regardless of my teacher's opinion of me now, these were too funny not to share...but try to read them when you're not in class.

Christmas Cheer

Red Hot

Well, immediately after posting about how white my skin is, I have to recant my story. I am now red hot.

It all started on Black Friday. We were at Grampy's farm for Thanksgiving, sitting around the old kitchen table waiting for our bellies to digest the waffles we had just eaten into manageable quantities. While we waiting to be able to move again, we browsed through the innumerable ads included in the Black Friday edition of the paper.

We saw toys and trinkets, gadgets and makeup, cars and coupons--all great deals. The bargains that intrigued us the most were the TVs. We have a great TV in our living room (his name is Stevie the TV). We bought that one with the gift cards we got at our wedding showers.

In the guest room, though, was a hulking monstrosity of a TV that I had bought very cheaply while I was in college. It was a big rear-projection TV that took up way too much space of the already cramped room. In addition to the space issues, the TV also had developed some other issues. The power button on the remote barely worked, the only numerical button that functioned was the 5 (great if your favorite channels are 5 or 55), and the only other working button was mute. It had to go.

So with the promise of a great deal lurking in our minds, we decided to go look at TVs when we got back to San Antonio. We stumbled upon a great deal at Best Buy last Sunday night, but were intimidated at the thought of making a big purchase without letting the idea marinate a while first. After a sleeping on it, the deal was too good to pass up--we bought it, on the condition that we would count this as our Christmas presents to each other.

Meet Evie (the other TV):

Soon after our purchase, though, I felt like our Christmas gift exchange was too anti-climactic for me. I thought we should still buy each other gifts, just on a smaller scale--a $10 limit.

A few days later I saw a new wrapped gift under our tree. Jeffrey told me that he had already bought my $10 gift, but that I needed to open it before Christmas because it would be important for my happiness. I opened the paper and found a most wonderful gift...

a foot heater!!

Jeffrey had been thinking of my little cold toes while he was shopping and had bought me the heater to keep them toasty through the winter.

Of course I immediately opened and used the heater, and promptly gave myself a heat rash on my feet. (Isn't your body supposed to protect itself from that kind of self-inflicted injury?) I never felt my feet getting too hot, but I sure felt the burn and the itching for a few hours after the first use!

Eventually I turned on my brain and moved the heater a little further away so that I wouldn't be quite so red hot.

And just to make the story a little more interesting...

Friday afternoon I got an email from a lady at school telling me that I had won a prize from a random drawing after a survey I had filled out online. The prize? A $250 gift card to (you guessed it) Best Buy. Four days too late for our TV purchase! But I have this sneaking suspicion that I could find another impulse buy to use it on...