Whoopie Pies
Who thought up this concoction which consists of two cookie-type pieces of cake with a sweet cream filling sandwiched between? Whoever it is should be shot. First the ginger Joe-Joe's; now the pumpkin whoopie pies. Which Paul makes. What kind of man makes pumpkin whoopie pies? Well, my husband does. He also is good at buying clothes for himself as well as for me. He doesn't like the term "metrosexual," but I would have to say it fits him.
Anyway.
My neighbor had a cookout tonight, and here I sit, feeling a bit loopy from a huge glass of white wine followed by a Diet Coke with vanilla Absolut (because, of course, I am still dieting). And because of the calories I've saved with my alcoholic beverages, I have eaten THREE pumpkin whoopie pies (am I even spelling whoopie right? thank goodness for the backspace button because otherwise they would be spelled like this: whopeoieee piesol). They are so delicious, but they are like swallowing a pumpkin-flavored bomb. In my case, three bombs.
I need some sleep.
I have to say, the neighbors are a freaking riot. Most of the people there were police officers, and I would love to know who's driving them home seeing as they were all doing the multi-fisted beer-drinking thing. At one point, one of them put on a Superman suit (I kid you not), and dove into the pool. I am so tired of laughing. My face hurts. It was nice to have a night of being silly, though. Next week Paul will be away on a business trip from Monday through Friday. That should make for some interesting stories.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow because Paul has a softball game, which means he will drop the boys off at his parents' house while he plays, and I will have some quiet time. Maybe I can actually clear off the dining room table and clean the microwave, which contains spattered chicken bits from three weeks ago. Yuck-O.
Okay, tomorrow is going to be a low-carb day. We HAVE to get these whoopie pies out of the house. I am nauseous just thinking about them.
Yeah, I know this is a boring post so shut up, Jana. I am more amusing when I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown, so I guess that's what everyone should wish for if they want anything funny to read. Give me 12 hours with my kids. Alone. That's usually all it takes to bring me from lighthearted laughter to screaming psychopath.
Anyway.
My neighbor had a cookout tonight, and here I sit, feeling a bit loopy from a huge glass of white wine followed by a Diet Coke with vanilla Absolut (because, of course, I am still dieting). And because of the calories I've saved with my alcoholic beverages, I have eaten THREE pumpkin whoopie pies (am I even spelling whoopie right? thank goodness for the backspace button because otherwise they would be spelled like this: whopeoieee piesol). They are so delicious, but they are like swallowing a pumpkin-flavored bomb. In my case, three bombs.
I need some sleep.
I have to say, the neighbors are a freaking riot. Most of the people there were police officers, and I would love to know who's driving them home seeing as they were all doing the multi-fisted beer-drinking thing. At one point, one of them put on a Superman suit (I kid you not), and dove into the pool. I am so tired of laughing. My face hurts. It was nice to have a night of being silly, though. Next week Paul will be away on a business trip from Monday through Friday. That should make for some interesting stories.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow because Paul has a softball game, which means he will drop the boys off at his parents' house while he plays, and I will have some quiet time. Maybe I can actually clear off the dining room table and clean the microwave, which contains spattered chicken bits from three weeks ago. Yuck-O.
Okay, tomorrow is going to be a low-carb day. We HAVE to get these whoopie pies out of the house. I am nauseous just thinking about them.
Yeah, I know this is a boring post so shut up, Jana. I am more amusing when I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown, so I guess that's what everyone should wish for if they want anything funny to read. Give me 12 hours with my kids. Alone. That's usually all it takes to bring me from lighthearted laughter to screaming psychopath.
posted by Karen Saturday, July 22, 2006
2 Comments:
First Mandy gets mentioned and now ME!!!! Woohoo!!
I was reading along and thought to myself...Karen's having an off day...this isn't her normal humorous self...then you told me to shut up. How funny...it was like you were reading my mind. ;)
Can't wait to see what the week brings with Paul out of town.
I *was* reading your mind. I'm good like that!
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