It was a long weekend. Friday night Mike and I went to see the Golden Compass. We didn't enjoy it at all, which is sad because I was really looking forward to it.
Yesterday, I was going to go to church with Mike's grandma and uncle, but got to there house after they'd already left - and then ended up stuck.
Like the smart person I am occasionally, I called Mike to tell him I was stuck in his driveway. He laughed at me, but was willing enough to help me out. I was in the middle of explaining to him where I was, when my feet fell out from under me and I ended up flat on my face. "Humiliations galore" came to mind, but he didn't say anything, so I figured it was between me and God.
I got to the house, and he said something about seeing me take a tumble. I made a face, but didn't bother telling him that I hadn't wanted him to see, until later, when we were telling the story to his grandma. It was hilarious.
Then, he helped me get the car up the driveway. First he helped me get it out, and then he floored it, and got it up.
At least, that's what was supposed to happen. Instead, he floored it, we got about halfway up, and then it went off the driveway and into the corn field.
"We're stuck here, Babe. You're not going anywhere until someone can get this out."
So he made me breakfast. It's good to know my boyfriend can cook. I hate ice.