It was only last fall that I told of my chicken bones catastrophe.

Whether it was the Sahara Desert rice or the whole chicken breast(s) that ultimately clogged the kitchen drain is debatable.

But now that I’m over half a year older and wiser, I can humbly trumpet what I’ve learned:

Brown-bottom chicken leads to lots of brown-bottom leftovers [and frowns].

Lots of brown-bottom leftovers lead to a bruised ego that rashly muscles whole chicken breast(s) down the kitchen drain.

Rashly muscling whole chicken breasts down the kitchen drain leads to a clogged disposal.

Said clogged disposal leads to an unhappy husband.

Unhappy husband repairing clogged disposal (while wife naively leaves dishwasher on) leads to an even unhappier husband, who gets sprayed with rice and chicken lodged in the drain.

Chicken and rice lodged in the drain lead to a rich plumber and terse spouses.

Terse spouses lead to apologies.

Apologies lead to making up.

And making up leads to making babies.

Baby?

Baby.

Burnt dinners . . . lead to . . . making babies.

Burn those dinners more often, people! 😉😉😉

Truly, we’re so pleased to announce that we expect a new little bundle in roughly two short months.

We couldn’t be more excited and thankful for this sweet blessing from the Lord.

My heart goes out to those who are praying for and patiently awaiting a little blessing of their own. I think about you often.

❤️

In the meantime, our dear Andy has no clue how much his life is getting ready to change [for the better]. 😂😳😋😘❤️