Stuff I Talk About

by Christina Ledbetter

Kroger and CrossFit and Mixed Signals

I’m getting mixed signals from Kroger: Speaking of confusion, how do pickles have zero calories? Zero calories? Come on now, Mr. Pickle. You’re not a diet Coke, which leaves me baffled as to how you’ve pulled this off: Speaking of pulling the wool over my eyes, remember the produce police I met a few weeks ago? The one who warns the world against paying for water on your cabbage? So […]

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Supermodel Stuff

My cleaning lady just called me and in panicked, broken English told me that she forgot to clean the mirror in my half-bath yesterday. Y’all, I’m thinking this means she thinks I’m like a tyrant. Or at best a witch. Anyway, I fired her. Kidding! Okay, but if she did think me a diva, she’s not too far off. You want to know why? Because I’m going to me on […]

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Benson Still Doesn’t Love the Cat

In case you were wondering if Benson loves the cat yet, he doesn’t, okay? Here, Benson doesn’t love the cat after he calls, “Haaaarold! Haaaaarold! I want you to sleep with meee!” throughout the house until he finds him and pulls him into bed with us and shares his pillow with him: Below, Benson doesn’t love Harold as he watches The Voice while stroking Harold*: Here, Benson doesn’t love Harold […]

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The Worst Way to Die

This morning while I was walking Cowboy, he stopped to pee in someone’s front yard. I stood there waiting on him for a moment, then looked down to see that he was peeing on an ant bed. “Hurry up!” I scolded, pulling on his leash and not wanting ants to crawl onto him. He peed a few seconds more, then skipped along. And then I realized, oh my gosh, those ants are […]

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Backwards Marriage Stuff

On Wednesday evenings Benson and I sit in our living room across from engaged couples and try to convince them that they will one day have the urge to cuss out their spouse and throw their everyday ware across the dining room, and that on that day, they will need to refrain from cussing out their spouse and throwing the everyday ware across the dining room, and instead, calmly talk […]

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So, About Being Native American…

For the first thirty-two years of my life, I thought I was a quarter Native American. Actually, for the first fifteen years I thought I was a quarter Indian, but sometime in the nineties it became racist to call it that, so I to switched to Native American. I remember my paternal grandmother wearing her hair in long black braids. She was tall and had high cheekbones and a long nose. […]

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