Or, you know, for Jason and I.
Actually, Jason was restless enough that he was totally behind my frozen yogurt idea; he generally prefers to go whole-hog when it comes to dairy-based treats and rolls his eyes at frozen yogurt, preferring gelato or just ice cream. And I'd agree, except fro-yo places have giant piles of fruit I can put on my frozen treat so that I can tell myself it's healthy.
As I pour chocolate sauce on it and top it with whipped cream.
Totally healthy, though - there's like seven blueberries in there. Blueberries are healthy.
I'm sure that the frosting-covered animal cracker I just delicately placed on the top has at least a few antioxidants, right?
In any case, he was a bit restless; he had run to a couple of flea markets while I was at work looking for supplies for the blacksmith's shop we're trying to put together. (By the way, if anyone reads this and knows of anyone, or knows a guy who knows a guy who is trying to get rid of some blacksmithing stuff, let us know. Let us know immediately. I may reward you with cookies or, if you are out of my general region of the state, with fluffy SmartWool socks.) Once he finished that, he didn't have a ton to do today, so we ran a couple of errands in order to have a flimsy excuse to be near the frozen yogurt place.
AND THEN FRO-YO HAPPENED.
This picture does not adequately show my joy at having fro-yo... which I insist on calling fro-yo because it really irritates Jason, and sometimes I just can't resist.
Don't feel too bad for him, though; he actively tries to convince the cat to come lay her white-fur-covered-self down on my brand new black skirt the first time I've ever worn it.
I didn't even pretend at health tonight. I got myself a bit of chocolate and peanut butter frozen yogurt, and then I topped it with tiny bits of EVERY CHOCOLATE TOPPING EVER, and then whipped cream. And then some hot fudge sauce. Because chocolate.
Jason had chocolate and banana. He also had delicious toppings, but he did not go quite so mad with power as I did.
Jason does not like the only cell-phone photo I grabbed of him eating. Well, that's not true. I got two photos - in the other one his tongue is sticking out.
The conversation we had while I was writing this entry:
Jason: "That is a really bad picture of me."
Me: "It's not my fault you always make faces when I'm taking pictures of you."
Jason: "I'm making that face because I'm eating! You always take a picture when I'm eating. Don't put that photo up there."
Me: "It's the only one where your tongue's not sticking out. What if I copy down the conversation we just had, so people will know you didn't like it?"
Jason: "... That would be okay."
So now you know the rest of the story.