I love when my friend, Pringles, starts out her stories with, "I'm so going to hell." It always means something hilarious and probably catty and definitely revolving around something ridiculous someone said or did. We laugh hysterically about it and say all kinds of feisty things and engage in hoards of eye rolling.
Today's eternity-deciding topic? Baby shower games. Can I please volunteer to scrub toilets in lieu (pun intended) of participating? I find it amazing that with all the creative and "artistic" baby-naming going on these days that we're still subjected to that same awful Guess the Melted Chocolate Poo in the Diaper game. Even boys who laugh themselves silly over poop talk think that game is hideous. And we're girls, for goodness' sake. Why oh why must we play that game?!
Pringles and I are very anti-game for showers because they all feel so forcefully precious and end up costing money that a lot of people can't spare in this economy. Call us boring old hags, and we won't even blink. We just can't bear to sit through another round of "you said the word baby!!"
But back to our topic at hand - Lest you think I'm incapable of being nice or gracious (or social, for that matter), I bring you the real subject of today's post: Redemption. Whenever Chiml and I laugh at someone or say something that For Sure is sealing our fate in hell, we speedy quick buy some forgiveness. And where do we shop? At the Red Cross.
My mantra: "Let your sin dictate what you donate."
I'm personally a fan of giving my money to the Starving Kids Fund, but really, it's purely subjective what will alleviate your guilt. In case you were about to ask - so far, the most I've spent buying back my soul is $25. Told you I was a nice girl.