I got a speeding ticket this morning. 55 in a 30, but reduced to "9 over" on account of the Officer, "Not really being able to overlook 20+ miles, but not wanting to spoil my day." Usually a ticket means serious tsk tsking from my Holier-Than-Thou-Never-Had-A-Ticket-Husband.

Not today! I practically skipped into the garage and entered into our ritual, 'How much do you love me, because I just cost us a grundle in insurance and I might lose my license unless I go to traffic safety school' conversation.

Daveskins has been in Jackson Hole all last week for work, and just returned yesterday. Although we are still in the Honeymoon stage of his return, I could tell he was winding up for a big lecture. Oh, how lovely it was to push my index finger to his lips and offer a quiet, "Shhhh. I don't even want to hear it. You can save your piety for a time when you didn't bring home illegal fireworks from Wyoming." And then, as a family, we celebrated his long awaited return with some Bottle Rockets, Black Cats, M-80's, and some Snaps for Em.