Apparently these are the thoughts that go through my mind.

One weekend, I made waffles.  And they were awesome.  I used the waffle recipe on the side of the bisquick box.  They were golden and buttery and fluffy and oh my gosh so good.

These poor quality photos literally have nothing to do with this story except that this was our kitchen our first year.  And that’s me attempting to look all cute and wifely making banana bread.

I’m not exactly sure how this came to be, but before I knew it, I was making massive batches of waffles every single week and freezing them.  I would eat two waffles every morning before work while watching Boy Meets World.  Who says just because you’re married you have to be a grown up?  Obviously I wasn’t subscribing to that theory at all!

And I wonder why I was at my heaviest our first year.

It had to be that.

Or the fact that I worked in a cupcakery.

Whatever.

Imagine my surprise when one morning, the waffle iron just gave up.  Y’all.  It got worn out.  Who, may I ask, do you know that’s ever worn out a waffle iron?

Well now you all have an answer to that question.

This girl.

Like quitting an addiction, it might have been a good thing in the end, the waffle iron meeting it’s untimely demise.  Hi, my name is Joey and it’s been over 3 years since I’ve made a waffle.

And then this showed up on Saturday.

From my MIL.

It’s a good thing we don’t have milk in the house.