Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day and I'm eating mine straight off the bar before the coffee's even ready — Saturday rules are mine to make. Which piece are you claiming?
Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day and I'm eating mine straight off the bar before the coffee's even ready — Saturday rules are mine to make. Which piece are you claiming?
National Nachos Day kicked off at midnight and I took it personally — the cheese sauce is hot and I'm wearing even less than the toppings. Come claim a chip?
Remember, remember the fifth of November — I woke up in a firewood-stacking mood and my sweater lost the argument somewhere around the first log. The bonfire's not lit yet, so come warm me up instead?
It's Stress Awareness Day and I'm doing my part — the whole afternoon cancelled, just me, hot water, and enough foam to keep a little mystery. My stress never stood a chance. Tell me what you'd do to help me unwind.
National Sandwich Day got me spreading a picnic blanket across the living room floor — the sandwich is stacked high and my shirt gave up on covering much of anything. Come claim the spot next to me.
Housewife Day found me and I took the dress code literally — apron, heels, and nothing the suds are hiding. Tell me what you'd have me cook next.
Three tries to get the face paint right, a full table of marigolds, and the whole apartment smells like flowers now — the altar is officially done. Come keep me company while the candles do their thing.
Witch is apparently the number one costume this year, so I committed — hat, cape, boots, and nothing the hat is hiding. Tell me if I'm ready for tonight or if I should add one more thing.
Mischief Night and the only target in range was my own cupboard — the candy I hid from myself never stood a chance. Tell me what kind of trouble you'd get into with me.
The world can absolutely wait until tomorrow — I've declared myself a full-time hermit and my bed has officially claimed me. Tell me you'd climb in and not ask a single question.