There are kids in Africa that wipe with their hands! What a waste...

Our house was hit.

We are the victims of a very serious incident.

A crime.

Uncalled for. Unexpected. Unimaginable.

Fort Street, Boise Idaho.

Tuesday, June 28th, 2011.

12:32am.

Call for back up.

We never thought it would happen to us.

{how could they do something like this}

Caught off guard.

{we had no idea}

Violated.

{why us}

Toilet Papered.

{you little jerks}

The perpetrators are more than likely identified as emo-north-ender kids, wearing skinny jeans and dirty hair that is wiped to the side. They are thought to have stole their yuppy parent's expensive roll of ultra-double-comfort-hug-a-grizzly-bear charmin toilet paper.

Yeah.

You know.

The expensive stuff.

{now, don't get me wrong here. we love the north end. we love living here. we have cruiser bikes. we shop at the co-op. and we hope to have little north-ender kids of our own...one day. it's incidences like this, that continue to reaffirm our decision to wait to put the buns in the oven. and on a side note-we like angel soft more than charmin, so there! we don't even like your squishy-bear toilet paper you little jerks.}

bad boys. bad boys.

whatcha gonna do. whatcha gonna do.

 whatcha gonna do when they come for you.

bad boys. bad boys.

{we didn't really call the cops}

I told Chris it was payback from his childhood.
{you know, back in the day}

Payback for when he was a part of a gang.

{Yes, a gang}
{our future north-ender kids will not be joining a gang or using charmin}

The name of the gang, you ask?
{great question, thanks for asking}

The TPB

That's gangster talk for:

The Toilet Paper Bandits.

{holler}

They were rascals.

Rascals with toilet paper.

And they Knew. How. To. Use. It.

{It's payback I tell ya, now involving innocent victims, such as myself, who never toilet papered anything but her own tooshie}

The legacy of the TPB lives on.

You little jerks.
=)

Mr & Mrs Cleaver

It has come to my attention,

{according to some very good friends} 

that Chris and I are kind of like The Cleavers.

{yes, the Leave it to Beaver - Cleavers}

{minus Beaver and his brother since we don't have kids yet, obviously}

I'm still not convinced...

Is it the pink basket  or the bell that goes "ching ching" on the cruiser bike?

{Chris has a bell that when you squeeze it, it sounds like a goose...it's great for getting people out of our way}

Is it our picnics?

{We do love our picnics}

Is it our school spirit?

{Who doesn't love sports?!}

Maybe my cupcakes?

{Sorry Martha, there's a new girl in town, and it's this girl}

{insert "two thumbs up" and then imagine me pointing them at myself}

Or is it just that we are ridiculously good looking?
{insert whatever whitty phrase you would like to insert}

Maybe I'm missing something?

We survived May!

Welp, we did it!

We survived the month of May.

Knowing that both of us were born in this wonderful month, we figured we could just add in another celebration to it and get married in May as well...that way, every year, we could celebrate all month long!



Little did we know that it would lead to being gone 18 out of 34 days.

Poor Jackson.

He is protesting any further vacations.

He was also upset that I made a friend in Cabo.

MaryAnne, the Dolphin.

But then he got over it after some quality cuddle time, and assurance that he was still my favorite.

(His love languages are quality time and words of affirmation).

Adios Mayo!

.