My mom called me this morning with a message from my brother: 9 hours to Big Brother. Yeah, he's a fan, too, whether he wants to admit it or not. I had to text him though, when she said that she told him he couldn't watch it unless he mowed the yard. Considering he's 40, I had to laugh.
He may get a reprieve on that...it just started pouring down.
My mom is making wonderfully delicious chicken fajitas that will be ready at 6:45. We have time to make our plates before settling down for Episode One.
I love my hubby. I love my family.
I love Big Brother, too. Oh well, 2 out of 3 making sense works, right?
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