Yesterday my mom and I stopped at a little place for some thrifting. We were downstairs looking at glassware when I was reminded of the fact that I'd make punch for SF's birthday. My mom used to have a cool punch bowl but got rid of it over the years.
A sweet lady overheard us and chimed in, "I have a punch bowl. It's antique and it's just sitting there."
"I'm sure you'd want more than I was willing to pay," I smiled.
"No, you can have it" she said.
We live in the same town so last night, by the time the front doorbell rang I had already forgotten about it and thought 'who the hell would be ringing the front doorbell?'
It was her with my new old punch bowl. I thanked her and she saw SF. He said thanks too. I washed it and it's cool, heavy glass. I told my mom I was going to bring back the adult punch bowl party. But I really don't need anymore punch in my paunch.
Why can't I just be slim and happy and brainless...switch to autopilot and become almost zombie like in my weight loss approach? The answer is very, very simple...I like food.