The Retirement of The Cheese Touch

Last summer, my friend Lisa was living a content existence in a cozy house with her beautiful family when her husband came home  and announced they should move into a ramshackle house (with an equally rundown pool) a few miles away. He saw the potential; she didn’t but our ward was awesome with helping them fix it up. I spent an afternoon doing a crappy paint job in her closet and as we helped them move I thought “I’m so glad we’re not going anywhere for a very long time.”

Fast-forward one year later and they threw us a going-away pool party in their backyard. Who would have thought?

I truly love each one of these families–the Larsons, Laras, Carrolls, Maugers and Haymonds. Their kids have grown up with mine, I thought they’d be in Young Men/Young Women together and eventually marry each other. It’s tough to pull myself away from this tight, comfortable cocoon where we feel understood, accepted and loved.

Cincinnati Chili Send-off

Eva, Lisa, Alexis and Jenn

Women folk

I’m not sure how our battle with “The Cheese Touch” started with the Carrolls but it has been going on for years. If you’re not familiar with the Diary of a Wimpy Kid’s dreaded cheese, go here for the background. We’ve been sneaking the cheese to the Carrolls (and vice versa) for years, the most creative being the time Eva covertly inserted it into Rice Krispie treats she gifted us, the worst when I dropped the cheese in their mailbox with our Christmas card and they totally busted me when they happened to be looking out their window.

So, it was only appropriate that for their going away present they gifted us with the cheese touch, framed and signed for us to have forever and ever.

I’m still debating if that is actually a good thing but we’ll take it.

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