If Bigger is Better, Then Giant Must Be Awesome. Fail.

As my more astute readers may recall, I recently discovered my husband's unfortunate indiscretion.

He has been tempted by the fruit of another, yes.

A BMW 6 series.

Oh, I realize that I am not entirely blameless in the matter. And I can own my responsibility, yes. I've let the Aging SUV go, I'm afraid. She's dusty and smells like a mixture of strawberry vinaigrette and Pilates mats.

But to be honest, the BMW started it, with her lurid offerings of pleasure. And power. And special financing.

Well readers, I have to say The Hub is not the only person in this household receiving tantalizing automotive correspondence. No he is not.

Check out the following note with it's sensual warm hues and curvaceous lettering addressed to me. Yup.






Note: Oh, yes. They want me. Bad.

I open the card, with trembling hands, somewhat.

Note: I should totally be writing cheesy romance novels.

But wait! What is this? How can this be?

I am being courted ...






By a Used car?

And a giant one at that.

Sweet Holy Moses.

Fail.








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Location:The Kitchen Island