Saturday, August 30, 2008
So I'm in bed watching the exciting news on TV about McCain's veep pick. I'm so excited not because I know anything about politics (although I really like Mrs. Palin so far) but because My Love is lovin' that Obama's thunder has been stolen. So I'm wiggling. Ya know... Jimmy legs, giggly foot, twitchy toes. Anyway, the following conversation ensues...
My Love: Are you all hyped up on venti Mocha frapplappadingdong?
Me: No! I didn't have a venti.
My Love: A venti Pepsi?
Me: No its not Pepsi, I had a grande.
My Love: Whats that the biggest size?
Me: No, its the middle.
My Love: But grande is big.
Me: Venti is bigger.
My Love: Then what is small?
Me: Small is tall.
My Love: Thats an oxymoron! Maybe you should blog about Starbucks' oxymoronic sizes.
My Love: *smirk* G'night My Love.
My Love doesn't drink Starbucks unless held down and forced. Those who do not partake will never accept. Just leave me alone with my venti mocha frappalappadingdong. And a tall small isn't really an oxymoron. An oxymoron would be a big small, see. OR, a short tall. Which it actually is, but we don't call them shorts, we call them smalls. So its a small tall... just deal with it.