The year of the sheep

Last night, rather than our regular Nexflix date, Cas and I celebrated the Chinese New Year. Welcome to the year of the sheep; so long to the year of the horse.

This had always been little more than a clever bit of trivia for me. I was born in the year of the tiger. Multiple placemats in Chinese restaurants have informed me of that. Cas was in the year of the sheep, Danny is from the year of the horse. Jeff, appropriately, was born in the year of the ox. 

Cas had the brilliant idea to go out and eat Chinese food last night. Specifically, we had a pupu platter. We are both big pupu fans. Fun fact- pupu is a noun, a verb and an adjective. We ate pupu from a pupu platter, but we never pupu-ed the idea. 

I have to go to a day of teacher training this morning- not the most thrilling prospect, I know. I feel that there may be a short discussion about fires in bathrooms today, as well. Happy year of the sheep, everybody.