Creeping myself out.

I haven't shaved my legs in a few days. It's starting to creep me out. It's so bad that I think I'm going to go do it real quick. The thought of my legs touching my nice, soft sheets right now is just nasty.

I'll let you know how it goes.

(Anyone watching the Dallas/Boston game? Wow. Five technicals in the 3rd quarter alone. Doc Rivers got ejected. It's been exciting.)

Edited to Add (About 20 minutes later):

I did it. Whew. Much better. I even lotioned them up with some of that lavender vanilla night time stuff. Some days, I love the frills of being a girl. I loved it when my legs are freshly shaved and I'm all girly smelling.

I was distracted by realizing that I forgot to start a load of laundry. The boys have no clean jeans to wear tomorrow.

On that subject. Valentine's parties tomorrow. I don't really mind them. I hate it that both of their parties are at the same time. What do I not like? The bags o' crap that come home from these events. I. Hate. Those. That's just me. If you are a bag o' crap giver - - more power to ya. I just hate coming home with dollar store crap that we just throw away.

OMG!! What am I? The Valentine's grinch? Could be. It's my mom's fault. She birthed me the day before V-Day. I get the 'ole "well this is for both" bit a lot. But given Mr. B's gift giving, I'm fine with it. He loves keeping me technologically advanced. I love that he loves doing that.

The Celts have come from behind and are beating the Mavs now. Good game.

I'll talk about Survivor another time. I don't have a good feeling about this one. Nobody stood out to me. Well, except Jeff Probst. What's happening to me. I watched it. And I didn't care that I watched it.

I better jet. I've got a load of laundry to fold, a shower curtain that was washed that needs to be re-hung and I have to get the kids clothes together for tomorrow.

*Smooches from B-dom*