In my usual (neurotic) form, I went shopping on Amazon for The Swede.
Basically, I had nothing better to do but pretend I have a (Swedish) boyfriend to shop for.
Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, no?
Well, I basically don’t know very much about him.
I know he’s Swedish. I know he likes hockey. I know he likes fast cars. I know he likes spicy things.
I flashed back to the time when I STUPIDLY asked him if Swedish Fish really came from Sweden.
He stared at me blankly, answering my question without saying a word.
Then I looked for hockey stuff, and I came across a Swedish Hockey ornament.
But while I was shopping for Swedish hockey stuff, I came across the PERFECT tee for The Swede’s hockey-loving, goalie-playing daughter.
I do not have a Swedish boyfriend. His daughter doesn’t even know I exist.
It was fun to look but in the end, I emptied my cart. . .
. . .and bought the Swedish Fish.
Those things are GOOD!