Milestones and Munchos [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Just in case you thought we were a classy couple, this image ought to dispel you of any illusion and knock us off the swanky-pedestal. Munchos and red wine. A classic combination.

This is actually an image of a celebration. The purpose of the celebration must remain undisclosed for national security reasons but in case you scrutinized the photo and are alarmed at the obvious daylight – and are worried that we began our celebration before noon or even before breakfast, rest assured that spring is approaching, the days are getting longer: we tipped our glasses at a reasonably late hour. By any sensible measure we were solidly in the happy hour zone when the vino met the Munchos. Dogga will attest to our appropriate start time. He is also a fan of Munchos though remains a teetotaler.

Some of my favorite celebrations in life did not happen in upscale restaurants or with linen napkins. They did not cost an arm and a leg. I will forever cherish tater-tots for the memories they invoke. Remembrance of biscuits and gravy at 3am, the clinking of coffee cups is a treasure. A baguette and white wine by the fountain. The extraordinary in the ordinary. Celebration of life with what’s at hand.

We constantly remind ourselves in this time of the world-gone-mad, not to miss the moments of celebration, not to let the horror-of-the-moment blot out the warmth of the sun. Did you know that the name Chickadee is onomatopoetic? I did not. Chick-a-dee-dee-dee! We opened the door so we could better hear the Black-capped Chickadee serenade our celebration.

We achieved a milestone. It could not have been better commemorated than with birdsong, Dogga at our feet, while we crunched a salty snack (the entire bag weighing less than 4 ounces!) and toasted life with a glass of red wine.

***

Once again, a post written prior to the latest outrage and act of titanic corruption. A war of distraction. Or, follow the money. Either way it is indefensible and unconstitutional though, we (I) might as well admit that the republicans and maga-minded have no use for the constitution (or critical thinking) as they daily throw it away.

Still, our blog post sentiment remains true: do not miss the opportunities to celebrate what is good and right amidst our national suicide-by-stupidity.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CELEBRATION

likesharecommentsupportthankyou

Load The Snacks! [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

We wrote a play entitled The Roadtrip. It is comprised of the many months of emails we wrote to each other before we actually met. Like Love Letters only with a happy ending. In it, as is true-to-life, Kerri is the wise character and I am the character without a clue. Note: the best part of being clueless is that you don’t know it.

If we were to write a sequel there would be less words and many more snacks. As the audience, you’d have to watch us eat. Kerri is a Twizzlers girl and I am a peanut M&M man. The snacking begins before we hit the end of the driveway. It doesn’t end until we arrive at our destination – and even that is a momentary pause.

There’s usually plenty of room in Little Baby Scion but you’ll not be surprised to learn that when we pack for a road trip, after the snacks are in the car, there’s barely any room for our clothes, which is a good thing because after all those snacks we can’t fit into our clothes.

Let’s just say that we have our priorities straight.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ROAD SNACKS

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

like. share. comment. support. subscribe…thank you.

Change The Plan [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

The snack rules on a road trip are different than the snack rules at home. Even when we delude ourselves into thinking we’ll be virtuous snackers on our trip, we quickly breakdown and stop for Twizzlers and Peanut M&M’s. And Munchos. “Do you want some apple?” I ask, and Kerri makes a wrinkly face.

“I don’t want any of that,” she pouts.

That’s when I know there’s a change in the snack plan. That’s when I know there’s a stop ahead. That’s when I know the road trip has officially started. With the onset of wrinkly face we revert to our inner 20-somethings.

“ROAD-TRIP!” we whoop in unison, turn up the music, and speed for the nearest exit.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SNACKS!

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Obsess [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

I’d never heard of Munchos until I met Kerri. I’d never pulled all of chip bags off the shelf at a store in search of Munchos until I met Kerri. I’d never been escorted out of a store by the police because of a Muncho search until I met Kerri. And, to make this fun, only two of the last three statements is actually true. Let me just add that the police were kind. Evidently, the officers that came that day appreciated Munchos as much as Kerri.

In reviewing the past several weeks of Smack-Dab, I see how snack-driven we really are. I’d have denied it outright before today. Dogga is completely food driven and you know what they say about people and their dogs. Dogga was in the car during our Munchos near-incarceration. He pretended that he didn’t know us though his deniability was questionable since he was in our car and had a collar with our phone number chiseled into it. The police were kind though. They cautioned him to keep a better eye on us and to forbid us from going back into the market. And then, they gave him a treat. Not a Muncho-treat. Those were nowhere to be found.

read Kerri’s blogpost about MUNCHOS!

smack-dab. © 2021 kerrianddavid.com

Love The Competition [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

The inaugural Twizzler competition revealed to me the full depth and breadth of Kerri’s competitive spirit. I can only add that, to this day, I am win-less. Yet, oddly, her victory celebrations never decrease in intensity. You’d think after 200 straight wins her victory-lap-fun would fade. But, no! Even though I am pathetic competition, she relishes each victory as if it was the first.

Of course, you’d also be justified in thinking that, after 200 straight losses, my enthusiasm for the game would wane. But, no! I’m determined to someday claim the Twizzler Cup. I can taste it. Victory will be mine and, oh, what a sweet rowdy roadtripping celebration I have planned!

read Kerri’s blog post about THE GAME

smack-dab. ©️ 2021 kerrianddavid.com