A breather

Sometimes when you feel like writing something that you know would upset people, you should take a breather and think about it. Just save what you've written and reassess whether you think the post is really all that necessary in the end, and what, if anything positive, you would accomplish with it.

I present to you my breather.

This post is not the one that I've been writing for the past couple of hours.

Instead, I, for fokken first time ever in the history of me on this here globe, will take a grown-up approach to things and think about it before I do anything rash.

Wow. Bet you didn't see that one coming. I'm just as gobsmacked as you are. Believe me.

So instead I'll leave you with a cool little picture and a discussion I and the Hubby had today (and these things are completely unrelated and both extremely random):

Mandela's boots.

Me: When you go downstairs please turn on the dishwasher. It's already loaded. Thanks.

Hubby: So, what, I just set the program and press play?

Me: Play? What the hell do you mean by play?

Hubby: I just thought that it sounded less like a chore if instead of pressing 'power' or 'on', I would get to press play.

The man does have his moments and completely sweeps me off my feet with sweet. And that's an excellent quality on a day like today.