I stopped at the feed store yesterday to pick up a couple bags o' horse chow.
The feed store fella Ben, says, "Do you want to know about a party you won't come to?"
I say - where and when?
About this time the feed store owner says, "Awww, they won't come"
I say - I promise we will come. I give my word. (uh-oh. my word? what does that mean exactly? what am I getting us into here?)
They say the party is tomorrow - which is tonight after work. I flava-flaved some goat cheese with sriracha and green chilies... I'll pick up a bag o' corn chips at the store on my way over ... Furry Husband will bring the cheese and we'll meet up at the feed store.
Our feed store is always having parties and we happen to have plans or something happens where we can't come every single time they have a party. Every single time. They think we are party averse.
Oh-ho. They are sorely mistaken.
We'll show them. We'll show up with goat cheese and chips... and we'll hang at the feed store with the fellas and the hundred baby chicks for sale, and the feed store cat and all the fella's feed store dogs - there's gotta be at least 23 dogs at the feed store at any given time.
The year 2010 will be THE year we started attending feed store parties.
It can only go downhill from here....