Tweet as Honey Attack of the Killer Tomatoes…

In honor of Halloween, I’ve decided to share two scary stories with you.  At least they were scary to me and my husband.  So sit back and be prepared to be frightened.  Or in the very least slightly embarrassed for us. It’s okay.  We are embarrassed for ourselves too.  It’s kinda a hobby…
You see, I have this thing where I often miss my mouth when eating. Go ahead, say what you want- Do you have Overzealous Eating Syndrome? Hand-to-Mouth Coordination Disorder? Natural Pig-like Tendancies? You must have a hole in your lip. Are ya saving it on your shirt for later?. Go for it. I can take it. I’ve heard them all. Ha! You can’t take me anywhere!

Which brings me to my story. I’m sitting at my desk scarfing down the last bit of my jello with mixed fruit before I have to go to a meeting. I get to the last bite and as I go to shove it in my mouth, my hand makes a diversion and gravity takes that dollop of cherry jello and mixed fruit right down into my scooped blouse where it lodges itself right between the girls.

Nothing like a bit of cold jiggliness in your cleavage to brighten up your day. So, I glance both ways, set the cup down and prepare to retrieve it, when my boss comes around the corner with a customer. “Suzy, I’d like you to meet so-and-so from such-and-such company”. Pretending like there wasn’t an alarmingly cold substance in my bra, I smiled sweetly and shook the man’s hand.

The boss grabs his laptop and ushers both me and the customer off to a meeting room before I could think of an appropriate way to excuse myself long enough to extract it. So, I sit in the meeting room for an hour trying to take notes and keep my mind off the fact that I now have sticky jello oozing into my bra.

Try to keep your mind on dry sales data with jello in your bra. I dare you. Bet you have issues with it too. Ha! Anyway, it was a pretty darn long hour. Like I said, you can’t take me anywhere.

Now, my husband works with my family, so oftentimes he comes home with tales of what went on at the job and sometimes those tales get back to the family because I go to “Ladies Night Out” every Wednesday night with quite a few of his coworkers. And sometimes I just can’t help myself and things just slip out.

So, he tells me this story about going to lunch with my brother and sister-in-law. My sister-in-law orders a home-made vegetable soup that comes to the table with a huge stewed tomato sitting on top. My husband, who finds any sort of tomato incredibly disgusting, especially stewed ones, described in detail to me his utter revulsion as she spent the next ten years (in his mind) slicing that tomato up into small pieces. He told me he had to stare down at his own food to keep from gagging.

Of course, this little tale got back to the women that work with him. Heck, we have to talk about something!

Anyway, next day I get a phone call from him at work. “Big mouth!” he says. Ha! This is what greeted him at work.

I’d totally love to take credit for this. This type of thing is so up my alley, but I have to say I had no idea they were going to do this. Made my day. Ha!

Happy Halloween!