We had to move to a new area yesterday and so now we are in another part of the Boonies but closer to Colorado and today it is snowing and blowing. Ugh! We are so not prepared for this! I only have T-Shirts and a sweat shirt jacket and Hubby has a jean jacket. No coat for Freddie and the poor boy doesn’t have a lot of fur.
I usually don’t have a problem with motels but there aren’t many out here and the one we plan on staying in next week was booked and only one other takes pets. Not the best motel I have stayed in for a long time. It isn’t a total eeww! but close. Sometimes, I hate our job but then I remember that we all get to be together and we make decent money and I must admit it is better than a normal “9-5” job. Ok, I am done complaining, at least this town has more food options so it can’t all be bad, right?
Our Joke for the Day
A husband is at home watching a football game when his wife interrupts, “Honey, could you fix the light in the hallway? It’s been flickering for weeks now.”
He looks at her and says angrily, “Fix the light? Now? Does it look like I have a G.E. logo printed on my forehead? I don’t think so.”
“Well, then could you fix the fridge door? It won’t close right.”
To which he replied, “Fix the fridge door? Does it look like I have Westinghouse written on my forehead? I don’t think so.”
“Fine,” she says, “Then could you at least fix the steps to the front door? They’re about to break.”
“I’m not a damn carpenter and I don’t want to fix the steps,” he says. “Does it look like I have Ace Hardware written on my forehead? I don’t think so. I’ve had enough of you. I’m going to the bar!”
So he goes to the bar and drinks for a couple hours. He starts to feel guilty about how he treated his wife, and decides to go home and help out. As he walks into the house, he notices the steps are already fixed. As he enters the house, he sees the hall light is working. As he goes to get a beer, he notices the fridge door is fixed. “Honey, how’d this all get fixed?”
She said, “Well, when you left, I sat outside and cried. Just then a nice young man asked me what was wrong, and I told him. He offered to do all the repairs, and all I had to do was either sleep with him or bake him a cake.”
He said, “So, what kind of cake did you bake him?”
She replied, “Hellooooo… Do you see Betty Crocker written on my forehead?”