The other night two of my daughters met at Buffalo Wild Wings with their boyfriend and/or husband. I dropped the hint to them that I was really jealous they were there and I was home NOT eating BBQ wings. The hint was supposed to be translated as thus: Mom would love some BBQ wings – Please get them for her.
So I texted each of them to tell them how my mouth was salivating just thinking about the wings, and they wrote back, LOL.
LOL? That's it? Not, OK, Mom, we'll pick some up for you?
The next day, I decided I HAD to have some BBQ wings (for me it's an addiction, like chocolate is to some people), so I dragged myself to the store (offering to buy diapers for my grandson), and roamed the aisles in search of my chicken wings.
Gone! Completely out. These types of things happen to me all the time. It's like some subliminal message gets sent out into the universe – Theresa wants wings – hurry, send sixty people to the stores – all of them – to buy them out.
At one point, I was willing to just suck down a bottle of Sweet Baby Ray's, but fortunately I found my wings and I am now happy.
So, for future reference, if any of you who know me are EVER in a place that sells BBQ wings, pick some up for me. P-L-E-A-S-E!