On Sunday, I bought this little organic health bar and ate about a third of it
(organic food, unless it's a vegetable, just tastes nasty).
Anyway, all of a sudden, my ears started itching deep down inside, my eyes and nose itched,
and my throat started swelling up.  It was hard to breathe and
I knew I was having some sort of allergic reaction.
I debated going to the emergency room but instead took some Benadryl, which helped.
While attempting to breathe, I started thinking about

things for which I am profoundly sorry...almost!

There are some things that, were I given the chance to do over, I would change...maybe.

Joe and I had been married for about a week when I rolled over in bed one night and
accidently jammed my finger up his nose causing it to bleed profusely for
2 hours.  Unbelievably, he is
still put out with me over it and recently recounted
the experience, "I was bleeding and she said, 'I'm sorry, honey' and
went back to sleep!"
Looking back, the blame needs to be equally shared.  I needed my sleep,
and my staying awake wasn't going to make his nose stop bleeding.
I'm still not quite sure what I should have done, but I'm sure that part of it's his fault.
I was asleep when I did it.  I can't shoulder
all the blame.
However, I do feel bad that he was woken from a sound sleep by my finger up his nose.
That must have been a surprise.

Something else that happened around the same time (15+ years ago).  
My sister and I were at the video store and this guy pulled into the parking lot on his
wanna-be Harley.  He swaggered into the store and well, you know the look you get from
guys when they think they're doing you a favor by checking you out?
He was doing that.  It was annoying.
My sister and I started talking about it the minute we left the store.
As we were climbing into her car, I spotted her son's used diaper, neatly folded,
on the floor of the car.  Inspiration struck.  
"What would he do if he saw this on the seat of his bike
when he came out of the store?"  I asked.
I swear she made me,
forced me, to put it on the seat of the bike.
Then we drove to the other end of the parking lot and spied to see what he'd do
when he saw it.  He got soooo mad!  It was delightful.
He raised his foot and kicked the diaper off the bike with the heel of his boot.
We wondered what had been going through his mind as he exited the store.
"I'm a beautiful specimen of a man, women want me...
What's on my bike???"
It sure took the swagger out of
his step.
As we were laughing, I felt kinda bad.
Joe says that if you laugh when you say you're sorry, it doesn't count.

Then there was the time I lied.  I can explain.
I stayed home after the birth of each child, sometimes
taking odd jobs for extra spending money.
It was during one of these times that I took on the most, shall I say
interesting job I've ever
had, even worse than the time when I was 12 and I cleaned the pigeon coop of an elderly  
neighbor.  Yes, it's hard to believe, but some people love pigeons so much that they coop
them up at night to keep them safe.  I almost tossed my cookies, some of the birds were dead
and I had to use a shovel... Anyway, back to explaining my lie.
This was a house cleaning job for another elderly neighbor.
I lasted exactly one day.  Everything was fine until I started to clean the bathroom.
I asked for gloves.  He said he didn't have any.
Who? I thought, returning to the bathroom, doesn't have gloves for the housekeeper?
But that wasn't all, the worst was still to come.
While I washed the mirror, I wondered about cleaning the rest of the bathroom.
The sink?  The shower?  
The toilet?  
Mentally, I drew the line, I wasn't going to clean the bathroom.  
I told him, "I can't clean your bathroom because I don't have..."
He cut me off.  "Yeah, I know I don't have a toilet brush.  
I think they're dirty things to have around.  Just stick your hand in there and go for it."
Ewww!  I pretended that I cleaned the bathroom, but I didn't.  That was like telling a lie.
I wish I'd have just left, but somehow I didn't have the guts to tell him.
Could it be because he was a chain smoker attached to an oxygen tank?
It was a bit scary to be in a house that could blow at any moment.
I didn't want to upset him.  In fact, I quit via the telephone.
I don't know much about fire technology, but it could be that an oxygen tank,
when combined with cigarettes and a toilet brush, creates a lethal mix.
This sounds plausible to me.

That's about all that came to me while I was hyperventilating.
When I realized that I wasn't going to die, I stopped feeling guilty.






It's Breast Cancer Awareness time, and everyone is doing their part to
spread the word, even Hamburger Helper.
think pink!
I hope to shout that no one sees this and thinks that Hamburger Helper prevents cancer.
It could be directly linked to heart disease, in fact the cheese sauce looks like the
blockage along the walls of an artery.  At least it has more than cheese and hamburger in it.
At least there's pasta in it so the blood can still flow through the macaroni noodles.  
Note to self: Don't chew!
Hamburger Helper, or as Jonah calls it Hambooger Helper...
Best when taken immediately following a confession...
Here's another interesting one...

I thought it was "pink for the cure."
This looks like "drink for the cure."

Whatever spreads the word.

This might be the best idea yet.