Every wooden spoon, mixing bowl, measuring cup and measuring spoon in my house is currently dirty, and I am only responsible for half of dessert tomorrow. Well, half of dessert and three meals a day for three people (plus dinner and cleaning up pop tart crumbs for my husband). There are three flavors of homemade ice cream in the freezer, Swistle's salt toffee brownies on the counter, and gingerbread dough in the fridge ready to be made into men by the children come morning. I suspect just walking into my house causes you to gain five pounds. Chris keeps suggesting that I do less, like maybe have only two flavors of homemade ice cream in the freezer, but he does not understand the baking=love equation, clearly.
Also, I went to pick up something I saw offered on Freecycle this afternoon (not as addicted as before, but have gotten a bedframe, a Little Mermaid game, and a tool bench larger than I am since Saturday) (ok, maybe still totally addicted), and I was standing at my car with the lady who was giving me the massive toy tool bench trying to wrestle the damned thing into my car and her neighbor came out and said "Are you Beth?" As soon as she said it, I knew she read my blog, there's just a look people get. It always amuses the crap out of me, I mean, I've sort of known you for years and had no idea you lived two miles from me.
I was telling Chris this story, and when I got to the part about how she recognized me from my blog, he said "how did she know?" And I said, well, she was right there... (blank stare from Chris) looking at me... (more blank stare from Chris) and at Mia... (continued lack of comprehension). Well, I don't know how she knew. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that she has eyes." And he said, "so she just recognized you?" Apparently it has never happened to him, so then I had to explain how many of our friends are people I ran into in the library or grocery store who I already knew online and just didn't know we were neighbors. It has happened so often to me that I was pretty shocked it has never happened to him.
How about you? Have you ever been recognized? Done the recognizing? (Lisa, was I your first?)
And also, in the spirit of the season, I am thankful that none of the people who have recognized me have turned out to be crazy wacko stalkers who want to lock me in their basement and force me to eat bacon.