Misreading and Misunderstandings…

Today was an odd day.

My eyes played tricks on me, quite often, but apparently I was not the only one.

Today, a friend of mine jokingly stated that she had tendered her resignation in favor of a highly dangerous job, as that would be far less stressful than her current position.

Somehow, in that bizarre game of internet telephone we can all play at times, she became a Denver Bronco Cheerleader by the end of this day.

Perhaps I should label this day “The Day the Denver Bomb Squad became Denver Broncos Cheerleaders…”  It’s a bit of a mouthful, though.

The small(ish) people went back to school today, and the house is truly clean at last.  It always seems more difficult to get it all done when they are home.  I get distracted – by playing, movie nights, reading together, and so on.

Their next plot in life is to take all of the skills they developed from building smart robots over Christmas break, and build a large robot that can do my cleaning for me.  Personally, I am hoping they create an android for me, something straight out of Asimov and The Robots of Dawn should suffice.  🙂

In the midst of this it occurs to me that I forgot to mention our silly dinner date, and the unusual guest who visited our table.

We were trying to choose a wine.  It was tricky business, since I tend to like Cabernet, and Lara prefers smoother, lighter reds.  It took the intervention of a sommelier to help us.  The conversation went along these lines:

Lara: “Oh, good, here comes Oppenheimer.”

Me:  “Is he bringing his deadly toy?”

L: “WHAT?!”

“M: “The Police, I’ll explain in a minute.”

We selected Three Saints Cab Merlot blend, and the Sommelier wandered back to his little locked wine room.

I should mention that Lara finds the word “sommelier” awkward to say, so she uses a different name for him every time.  This week it was “Oppenheimer.”  Apparently she had not ever listened to “I Hope the Russians Love Their Children Too” by the police.  “How will I save my little boy from Oppenheimer’s deadly toy?”  Thus, the dinner conversation turned to the Atomic bomb, as well as what a nice wine we were drinking.

Now we have two code “expressions” here.  “Oppenheimer” = Sommelier, and “David Hasselhoff” apparently = “there’s a robbery in progress in the depanneur and I can’t buy you a candy bar.  Oh, and get help, please.”  (I’ll reblog that older blog for you tomorrow.  In case you were nervous, David Hasselhoff means David Hasselhoff is in the store with me.  He’s very tall.)

Goodnight, and blessings to you all…

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