Um, what?

Last night, Wendy and I were having one of those deep, philosophical conversations that loving couples have. You know... conversations like who wears the pants in the different families we know.

For some couples, it's easy to spot the head of the house. One couple we know made it abundantly clear who was in charge. The wife, with drunken clarity, proclaimed that it was like *she* was the man and *he* was the woman in the relationship.

For other couples, it's not that easy. Sometimes the man plays the fool to avoid having to be the boss at work and at home. In those cases, the woman rules... so long as the man approves.

In our relationship, it's simple. I act like a big kid. I dance and make funny faces. Yet Wendy insists I act like an adult. So I guess I'm an adult. And we both think the other takes better care of us. But when it comes to decision making, I end up making the decisions because we both know that Wendy hates having to decide. (But she puts in a hell of a lot of input.)

Later in the conversation, I threatened to use the Claw on Wendy. She pretended to be a damsel in distress. However, for some reason, her damsel in distress voice sounds like a Georgia Belle. To change things up, she tried an Irish accent. It was the best thing ever! Her Irish sounds just like a Hoosier reading movie lines for a future Scottish Warp-drive engineer. I think I peed a little.

That was when I wished I had a little notebook on hand. We tend to say really stupid things sometimes, and I wish I could record them all for posterity. Plus, Wendy says I say a lot more stupid things than she does, so I need to start keeping score.

One stupid thing I said came after a discussion about letting our future kids dye their hair. I think I said, "I love you even if you're going to make our kids like who they are by not letting them be someone else." Yeah, it didn't make much sense out of context.

The conversation lasted until almost 2 AM. The next stupid thing was said by Wendy this morning as I tried to wake her up for church. "Why do I have to go to church," she asked.

"So that you can meet me in Heaven," I replied.

"Honey, we both know you're never going to get to Heaven." And she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Anywho, it's time to go. I have to take care of a retarded 90 pound pitbull and bring my broccoli-cheese soup down to my parents.

Chocolate Pudding Pie

One thing about Wendy and me, we like to experiment when we're away from prying eyes.

Recently, I tried a recipe for a banana pudding. It used vanilla wafers as the crust, and cream cheese and condensed milk as the main flavoring in the pudding. It tasted pretty darn good. Now being the adventurous type with an oral fetish, I figured a bit of change might be good.

Here's the result:

Crust:
Take a bunch of Oreo cookies. Scrape off the white filling. Crush the cookies into dime-sized pieces. Line a 9X13 pan with the crushed cookies. (I used about 2/3 of a regular Oreo bag.)

Filling:
1 8oz package of cream cheese (softened)
1 14 oz can of sweetened condensed milk
2 3.9oz boxes of instant chocolate pudding
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 cups cold milk
1 8oz tub of whipped cream

Beat the cream cheese until smooth. Add the condensed milk and mix thoroughly. Add the milk and vanilla and mix. Add the pudding mix and mix thoroughly. Fold in half the whipped cream before the pudding gets too hard. Pour the pudding into the pan. Chill for 3 hours. Top with remaining whipped cream.


When you take a bite, be ready for a chocolate orgasm in your mouth.

What Did You Do Today?

Ryan: You know. I feel like I accomplished a lot today. I got to ride my motorcycle. I cooked breakfast. I got to go "hiking" (in air-quotes). I got to eat lunch with you. I checked all the fluids in your car. Checked the air in all your tires. Changed the oil and oil filter.

Wendy: You made a wonderful dinner.

Ryan: Made dinner. Made dessert. Now I get to watch movies and tv shows with you.

Wendy: Wow. If someone asked me what we did today I would have said, "nothing."

Trust

Ryan: I'm thinking of a number from 1 to 10. Try to guess the number.

Wendy: Why?

Ryan: It's a game. Come on. Guess.

Wendy: I don't want to play.

R: Why not?

W: I don't trust you.

R: What do you mean you don't trust me?

W: You'll change your number.

R: No way! I wouldn't do that.

W: Yes you would. I know you. You would do anything to win.

R: No I wouldn't. I wouldn't murder.

W: No. But you would change your number.

R: I'm shocked that you would think that of your husband.

W: OK, OK. I'll play.

R: OK. I'm thinking of a number.

W: Is it si...

R: Wrong!!! Hahahaha! You lose.



And here's some Christmas pictures:


Doing crafts while waiting for Santa to come.


Wendy would not put Gideon down. We may have to buy one of our own soon.


Christmas at Grandma B's! (Lots of delicious ham)


Christmas at Aunt Judith's! (Even more food. Lots of delicious desserts)


My first white Christmas (though a day late) When we got home that night, Wendy chased me down an entire block trying to hit me with a snowball.


The best food when it's snowing? Dairy Queen ice cream, of course.


Got my Midwestern steak... Louisiana style. Heh.


Nick wins. Wendy and I went out for pizza with Lornette and Lauren. They're two motorcycle girls I used to ride with. The pizza dinner was to repay Lornette for removing my stitches. She's a nurse. I got stitches because I had a mole behind my ear the dermatologist didn't like.

Short story long, Lauren watched the movie Avatar and she said it looked too realistic to be considered a cartoon.