Somebody stop me from snacking. Quick.
I’m alternating between garlic parmesan pretzel chips and some Moose Crunch that my partner gave me which is a super fancy Crunch and Munch. These do not go together in any way, shape, or form, and kinda feels like Junie B. pouring orange juice on her cereal. And I just keep doing it. And we’re supposed to have salad tonight because we’re trying to be healthy.
Healthy! What’s that?
That’s a good vocabulary word. I need to look it up in a dictionary.
Did you say dictionary?
Wait a minute. Is it time to announce the winners for my A to Z Student Picture Dictionary?
Yes, I think it is!
(Do you like my fancy schmancy segue? I thought that one up all on my own as I was writing. That was not pre-planned. People, it’s a gift.)
Thanks for playing. Come again. I do this all the time.
Well, not quite, but whenever I put a new item in my kiosk.
Which is mostly never, but I’m hoping at some point to get an actual space on the perimeter of the mall with a door. If not a door, then one of those roll up metal things that would be really hard for me to get all the way up so I would have to hire someone to open up the store in the morning and close it down at night. As you can see, I’m a dreamer.
And a snacker.
I kind of feel a little hyper as I’m writing this . . . could it be the sugar, the garlic, the parmesan, or the nuts?