My Wife, the Spaz

This evening, having spent the evening hosting “The Vagina Monologues,” my wife and I enjoyed Taco Bell for dinner. For some reason, Amy insists on ordering to-go foods that can’t possibly be eaten to-go without ramifications. Tonight, she got a big pile of nachos with all the fixin’s for the road. About half-way through the nachos, she spazzes and flips the whole plate over on her lap and steering wheel. I don’t mean a slight spill – I mean the plate was upside-down on her lap when I looked over. She was able to finish her nachos from that final resting place, even through my uncontrolled laughter. Our dog, Bacca, gave us a hand in cleaning things up when we got home.

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