Happy Social Media Awareness Day!

Oh sure, Chup and I have our disagreements.

Like last night when I put Ever in her high chair, plopped a big blob of mashed potatoes on her tray and let her have at it! Approximately 70% of those potatoes ended up on her actual body, the rest consumed somewhere in it. She had mashed potatoes in her hair, ears, nasal cavities, neck folds and somehow, in between her bitty toes. Contrary to the photo above, she was having the time of her life (a la Dirty Dancing/Black Eyed Peas).

I couldn't stop laughing. It was the best show.

But Chup? No likey.

He doesn't like the mess. Messes are really hard for him to navigate. He's not like me, he doesn't find putting the dirty baby in the kitchen sink to soak (the easiest post-dinner clean-up by-the-way) a perfect solution.

"I don't know what your problem is," I said to him as he sat stoic eating beef tacos, "I usually do the clean up around here."

And that was the wrong thing to say because he pipped right up, "That is not true. I always clean up."

"Sure, you always clean up. But only if I ask you to."

I don't know if this conversation could get more predictable, but true to the acused, Chup was not having it.

"I clean up without you asking me to all the time."

The conversation was at a stalemate, so Chup suggested we go for a ride to run some errands. I cleaned all the cracks in our little mashed potatoed butter ball and dressed her up warm. We kept the conversation jovial, until we started to (somehow?) talk about Twitter.

"MC Hammer tweets thirty to forty times a day. I saw it on Oprah," I informed Chup.

"I would unfollow him, I couldn't handle that many updates from one person," he replied.

"I want to take that challenge. I am going to have a Social Media Awareness Day and tweet thirty times."

"I will unfollow you."

"For one day? You couldn't handle it for one day?"


"I am going to do it anyway."

Then, we dropped that conversation as well.

Sometime in the very early morning I woke up and realized we didn't take the garbage out to the curb for collection that morning. I say "we" but really this is Chup's job--but remember? only if I remind him. Which I had not.

I quickly got out of bed, and with nothing but my underwear and a ill-fitted coat (like, really ill-fitted) (like, what is the point of even wearing it?) I crept outside, made sure there wasn't a soul insight, and dashed that garbage can out to the curb. The morning was dark and cold. When I turned to sprint back inside I caught the eyes of a passerby directly across the street from me.

Deer in headlights. (Him, not me.)

"Oh geeze," I said, pulling down on the tragically small coat trying to make it cover the important parts. Then, I sorta crab-walked back up the driveway cursing at my husband all the while.

"Really Chup? I don't have to remind you? What is this? Me, cold, stupid coat, indecent exposure, public nudity..."

I retreated to the kitchen and for a glass of water. The whole ordeal made me parched. That's when I noticed the cleanliness. Sometime in the middle of the night Chup had slicked up the entire kitchen, dishes, counter tops, floor, Ever's potato-encrusted high chair. And unless I was sleep-talking, he had done it without my request.

As it turns out, after my bodily sacrifice, we missed the garbage collection. But I was willing to let that one go, because the kitchen was sparkly. That is until Chup said this,

"I would feel apologetic for not taking it out, but the thought didn't even cross my mind. So it's not like I meant to do it and didn't."

"Oh so I am supposed to apologize for not reminding you?"

And it begins all over again.

Friends, today is the day I am going to tweet 30 times. My twitter updates also post on facebook (yes, I am a twofer in the social media realm). If you would like to follow me to see if my husband will accept the torture and keep following me for this entire Social Media Awareness Day you can follow me on twitter here or facebook here. And please, for the safety of this blog, try to contain your excitement about this thrilling announcement.

p.s. Chuppy Pie, love you my Hot Sugar Rocks Cooled From Heaven's Gentle Breeze. Let's make it eternal!

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