Bunnies & Icicles

I love relationships. I know I probably sound like a ditz, but I am simply amazed by communication. The fact that you can tell a story and another person keeps pieces of it, and adds them to that box of you that they keep in their head astounds me. I just love it.

Maybe that's why I like blogging. I love to learn things about people. Just little things.

The only thing I love more than knowing someone well is knowing that they know me.

Now, if you leave this post today with one thing, I want it to be that I'm usually a pretty tough cookie. Emotionally I mean. I don't cry over a lot, and I certainly don't like to cry. You will never catch me watching a chick flick/tear jerker and sobbing with joy. No sir. I am an escapist, remember?

That being said. I cried over a pair of bunny socks this morning. No, Matt. Not a bunny in socks. Toe socks with bunnies on them.

I realize how lame that sounds, but it just happened. My supervisor gave me my Christmas gift today. An icicle ornament and bunny socks.

A while back she and I were discussing childhoods.

She told me a funny story that inspired my Christmas gift to her, and I told her about how I used to get in trouble for strange things as a child.

In the winter it was eating icicles off the car. Hey, I was five. I liked popsicles. The rest of the time it was something to do with my bunny eating something he shouldn't be. Like the Christmas lights!

So, I almost lost it over the icicle ornament, but managed to hold it together. Then I opened the bunny socks and that was it. I was done for. Fanning the tears trying to escape my eyes, I thanked her.

She beamed. Perfectly content with the fact that she'd brought me to tears with socks and a plastic ornament.