My Very Own Stick in the Mud

The man who makes my heart beat fast and loves me even though I'm directionally challenged, verbally unfiltered, and physically and mentally challenged is off seeing the world again.  Right now he is in Budapest, Hungary.  He was supposed to go there 2 years ago on Thanksgiving.  (What better place to be on Thanksgiving than Hungary, unless it's Turkey?) But his trip didn't pan out because his mother who always made me feel like I was the best thing that ever happened to her family--now I realize she was just very kind, very patient, and very smart--and I love her for it, decided to take a permanent trip to heaven.

So, while Ric is lecturing in Hungary, which is a better place for him to lecture than the kitchen table, I made an exciting trip to Lindon which is almost like London except it is missing an o, a bridge,  a tower and an abbey plus some blood pudding and bubbles and squeak.  But what Lindon is lacking in towers and abbeys they make up for in exciting things like Kindermusic with Rebecca Hainsworth, because seriously, kinder music has got to beat rap;  First Fantasies Costume Cuzzin  because who couldn't use a little fantasy especially if it involves your cousin???  And my favorite, JUMP ON IT.  At least my sweaty son and his recess-smelling friends said they had some wicked birthday fun there.

But how funny is this?

The picture my husband sent to family members from his trip to the Dead Sea to prove he is not a stick in the mud.

He is the tall stick in case you are wondering. 

No, he is not a stick in the mud.  He is a Ric in the mud.