I am cranky today.
Pretend the statement above is written all in bold, italicized, angry red font. And it is the size of large skywriting.
Do you feel my crank?
You should be able to because it is out of control crank.
For some reason, I felt the need to share it all with you.
I was just making the Pioneer Woman's lemon crumb bars and could not for the life of me open the stupid,stupid lemon juice bottle.
A pen, a knife, my teeth. None of them worked.
Neither did throwing the bottle or cursing.
I do not think that entering the Lord's presence in prayer is a wise idea what with my mood.
Rod opened it.
Patient, patient Rod.
Whom I shall begin calling Job because of his great forbearance with my previously mentioned crank. He can just continue to call me one of the following:
All are applicable.
You know you are cranky when , while making the lemon bars,you begin getting angry with the ingredients.Say that the butter and the brown sugar begin sticking to the sides of the bowl and the beater. But you are busy zesting the lemon.
So WHO can help by scraping the bowl?
NO ONE, that's who.
Rod is not here anymore, as he escaped into a torrential down pour to take the dogs on a walk rather than stay under the same roof with moi.
I can't believe I was getting mad at the butter and sugar. Butter is my BFF. I guess that doesn't matter today.
I need another hand or two to get these lemon bars done..God, WHY DIDN'T YOU GIVE ME ANOTHER PAIR OF HANDS??
As you can see, I have been in an unimaginably testy mood. Probably just hormonal. But pretty irritable.
The kids are all coming over for dinner in a little bit and bringing the grand baby Max.
That should help.
I find him magically delicious.
Edited to add: Speaking of magically delicious, the lemon bars were exquisite.Also, no animals or family members were mutilated or murdered in the making of this blog today. They were just tortured by my company until my hormones settled down. Everyone is fine. Promise.