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Today.

Was probably the best day of Mr. How Sweet’s life.

As I shared earlier on Facebook, Mr. How Sweet spotted a few WWF diva’s at the airport this morning. I have no idea what that means, but assume that it is huge for a man who has framed pictures of Bret Hart, Chris Benoit and The Undertaker. After going through security, he saw the diva’s (is that what I’m supposed to call them? I don’t even know what that means.) again and this time had the guts to ask for a picture. They obliged and he snapped one with his phone. It didn’t turn out, so he asked if he could take another. That one also didn’t turn out, and he asked for a third! Who is this man? I am so grateful I was not with him.

 

While Mr. How Sweet was spending time with buxom blondes and wondering how he ended up with a stumpy brunette, I ate this egg on a whole wheat cinnamon raisin english muffin.

Such a good combination!

 

Then I had a hair appointment. And I had to pick up my glasses. I sort of understand why Mr. How Sweet says to me at least once a week, “you sure are expensive.” And now it makes much more sense why when my dad walked me down the aisle, he turned to Mr. How Sweet and said. “she doesn’t come with a receipt, so there are no returns or exchanges. Final sale here.”

Since I was in the vicinity, I stopped and got some frozen yogurt. I have no idea why I like it so much, since I don’t even care for ice cream. It’s just not my drug of choice. But give me an $8 cup of froyo, and I’m good to go.

 

I guess I am expensive.

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