Toasted Blonde

Me this morning: "It's official.  I don't want to go back to college." Husband: "Well, that's good because you can't go back to college."

But boy did I try last night.  I was all smiles, sipping Pinot like water, chit chatting.  One of our stops along the way? Bar -- a famous New Haven haunt.  On the beer menu, I pointed to the first beer and laughed.

Me, giggling: "Toasted Blonde?  I hope that's not what I am by the end of the night."

Husband: "Me too."

And a couple hours later, things got a tad toasty for this blonde.  Calm down. Not too toasty.  Not old school college toasty.  But still.  Toasty enough that I woke up this morning and said those words I'd honestly never thought I'd utter.  Toasty enough that I've repeated them over and over all day. I do not want to go back to college.

No.  After watching my brilliant sis don that cap and gown and graduate tomorrow, I want to go back to my girls and my cats and my new utterly boring and far less toasted sensibilities.