For those of you who keep tabs on these things, this is a record for me. I made it to the 17th day of the month before I pulled the Dead Rubber card. Everyone do the Happy Dance.
For any newbies or highly forgetful readers, please allow me to explain. I have a monthly “Dead Rubber” post, which is, basically, one into which I have put less effort than usual. “Dead Rubber” is, apparently, slang for “boring”. You would think that, since I have nothing useful to say, I would just spare you a day of reading. But, you would be wrong.
For today’s less than stellar post, I give you a few pics of Wonderbutt trying to take Dimples Firepants for a ride on his smelly, old, cotton filling-leaking sofa cushion. Apparently, the poor kid was sitting on it, and Wonderbutt suddenly decided that it needed to be on top of his Wonderbutt bed right that moment – whether she was using it or not.
Dimples had one primary goal when we went to Houston – shopping. So, our hostess, Mrs. Globetrotter, kindly escorted us to the most famous shopping mall in Houston – the Galleria. As soon as we walked in, and Dimples saw that this mall was not just about shopping, she quickly forgot her mission. She declared, “I want to go ice-skating.” The kid’s inner circuits almost suffered from a meltdown with this sudden overload of favorite stores and second favorite hobby (swimming being the first). As her mother, it was my job to guide her through this difficult time.
“No,” I said. She had talked about shopping for two friggin’ weeks, been making lists of what she wanted, and made me take her to the bank the morning we left to turn in her change – so I was not about to let her get sidetracked by a giant piece of ice in the middle of the food court.
It mattered not that the two stores Dimples most wanted to see actually exist, in several locations, in San Antonio. She had put shopping at the top of the list of Houston attractions, and shopping we would do.
After we made our way to Justice and Bath and Body Works (where Dimples bought as many Wallflowers as she could to cover up the scent of Wonderbutt), Mrs. Globetrotter led us to one of the few spots you cannot find in San Antonio – XXX Candy Bar.
Now, before you get too excited, it was not an Adult candy store. I used the Triple X in place of the name. And in a feeble attempt to attract more readers to my blog.
The reason that I did not use the actual name of the candy store is because they apparently do not like free advertising. I know this because I was about to take a phone pic of their luscious brownies to send to Cap’n Firepants, and the Brownie Lady nearly leaped over the glass to shut me down. “No pictures in here except for in front of the Giant Chocolate Bunny.”
I have never owned a gun, and have never carried one. But I think I now know how it feels to pull one out in the middle of a crowded store in the mall. The only thing missing from this lovely experience was Brownie Lady leaping over her delicious confections to tackle me to the floor and hold me down until someone disarmed me of my 2nd generation iPhone with .1 megapixel resolution.
“O-o-o-kay,” I said, slowly backing away from the brownie counter and surreptitiously sliding my phone back into my purse.
I don’t know if I inadvertently discovered the front for a secret government spy organization or if the Brownie Lady is that concerned that I will steal her business (an amusing thought if you have ever tasted my cooking). But I feel that it is my duty to warn all of you potential picture takers out there that you are taking your life in your hands if you are not standing in front of the Giant Chocolate Bunny.
Oh, and to the 96,000 people out there who have already posted your images of this famous store (minus the Giant Chocolate Bunny) on Google: you better start checking your rear view mirror for Brownie Lady. She is a woman on a mission.