Too Late to 'Pologize

There's an emotionally heavy post sitting in my drafts folder, but it's the holiday season and I'm not sure I want to share this part of my life yet.   Oooooh, teaser...  
not so much-it's in regards to the "ugly" death I referred to in a past post.

Instead,




let's play "Guess-what- these-stories-have- in-common", shall we?

Story 1

When I go out to buy groceries, I usually bring home special treats for the hubby and I to share...



in front of the football game (Hey, it can't all be romance, can it?).
The latest treat was white chocolate and raspberry cookies. I get pudgy excited with these fun little finds.

Only, when I got home, the husband was stuck in front of his computer doing his online classes so I sat alone in the living room eating my cookie. Becoming pudgy all by myself.

The next day when I reminded him about his cookie sitting in the package, this is what he found.

This wasn't me! Those are kid teeth prints!! How do they eat half of a cookie, put it back in the package and actually think they won't be found out?
At least Hubby won't gain any weight.

Story 2

We took the kids to Wembley Stadium to see England V Spain.

First of all, Wembley is NOT where they play tennis, that's Wimbledon and it's here as well, but we went to see football, not tennis. We got to see a lot of the Barcelona players (only the BEST team in the world!) and it was SO cool.

It's sad to say that when entering the stadium I had that, "I can't believe I'm actually here!" feeling I got the first time I went to Conference in Salt Lake City. Probably best not to compare since so many people already think footy has become my golden calf.

Because our journey to the stadium was fraught with transport disasters, we made our kids eat dinner after the game and the poor little guys had to wait an hour just for a table. They were good sports. Have I mentioned I have great kids?  
After 10 pm we hoped that the crowds would be thinned out on the tube. It might have been if the route hadn't been plagued by construction and diversions.

At one point we had to hop on a double-decker bus to get us to the tube station where our car was parked, but that bus broke down, was eventually revived but then we were left driving with no lights (the children were watching out the front window giggling, "We're gonna die!"). Finally the bus had to stop after sideswiping a car only a mile from where our car was parked.
Our parking place expired at midnight and we pulled out with five minutes to spare. The kids trudged zombie-like to their beds at 2.30am.

Crazy thing is, we're doing this all again when the Olympics come to London.
(warning to anyone wanting to travel on any kind of public transport during that time-- we will be out there with our little black cloud!)

The answer to what these stories have in common:

Nothing.

I'm just busy adjusting to having the Hubby back, surviving the holidays and dealing with some traumatic stuff--that I will share eventually--so please forgive me for not acknowledging comments from the last 6-8 weeks. I have loved hearing from you and my inbox has been what's kept me putting one foot in front of the other.

Thank you!