This is a post that is pretty much about nothing in particular.

I have a sore throat.  And I’m tired.  And I’m sitting here, hoping that it rains.  Rains hard.  Because then soccer practice will be cancelled tonight. 

Is that so wrong?

I know.  It makes me a wicked, wretched, fun-ruining kind of mom.  (One of the littles asked me the other day why I always had to ruin all the fun around here.  Which totally makes me laugh.  I think I asked him to wash his hands or something.  I am SO mean.  I also make them wear sweatshirts to the bus stop when it’s less than 60 degrees outside.  I know, I know.  Horrid.) 

I still hope it rains. 

Now I’m going to go snuggle up with a cup of tea and read me some Beverly Cleary.  (Still doing to pre-reading.  There is no end to that in the near future, I’m afraid.  My daughter came home with a book from the book fair that I began to pre-read and let me tell you I got no further than page 2 before I closed it for the forseeable future.)

Go back to your lives, people.

For Your Reading Pleasure

1.  Last week,  I found shoes under my pillow.  If you’ll remember, The Man and I have a little game going on.  I did not find the shoes to be hilarious.  It’s way funnier when I do it. 

 

2.  I must preface #2 by asking you to recall William’s rules.  Pay particularly close attention to rule #1.  The one that says ”Don’t look at me when I’m getting dressed.”  Right.  So yesterday I got a note from The Man while I was out which stated the following: 

No more Wii for William today.  When I sent the boys upstairs to change, William did a naked dance in front of Henry.

Which totally made me laugh.  I know, I shouldn’t laugh.  Anyway, just to clarify the rules, you are not allowed to look at William while he gets dressed.  Even if he does a naked dance.  

 

3.  I got this super nice award from Daniele at Life As A Mom…thank you Daniele!  The award states:  This award is bestowed on blogs that are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to how ever many bloggers you choose and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

 

I actually had to look up ”self-aggrandizement” to make sure I knew what it meant.  I had a vague sense.  I also had a vague sense of how exceedingly charming I am.    Anyway, what a nice award to receive.   

 

4.  Yesterday the kids found this…

 

 

And The Man wanted to keep it.  I don’t know why.  Because he’s a man I guess.  It’s dead.  It’s in a baggie.  In my house.      

So I took a picture of it.  Because that’s what I do.  Anyway, look how it is preserved for all eternity…in striking position.  You can even see it’s creepy little viper tongue.  In case you were wondering, it is a milk snake (which is not a viper.  But “viper tongue” sounds very snakey).  It’s harmless.  Still gross.  And the deadness doesn’t do anything to lessen the “gross.”  I’m going to put it in Mr. Pink’s mailbox.  Just for fun. 

 

5.  Speaking of whom, Mr. Pink made a nasty comment about my daffodils looking unkempt.  So I spent several hours the other day tying them up into nice neat little bundles.  Now they look very kempt.  You would not believe how long that takes, really.  And I only did about half of them.  When Mr. Pink saw my handi-work, he said it was definitely a pink job.  Mm-hm.  That topic shall never die. 

 

6.  Superfudge.  Remember that book…Judy Blume?  Mm-hmm.  I bought it for Kate.  I was so impressed with myself for choosing this book for Kate, which she devoured in about 2 days.  And then I read this passage:

When I got home that afternoon, I cornered my mother.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to let him go on believing in Santa.” 

bla bla bla…

“I do agree that sooner or later he’ll have to learn that Santa is just an idea.”  She sighed.  “But for now, he’s so enthusiastic and the idea of Santa is so lovely that Daddy and I have decided it can’t possibly hurt.  So please go along with us for a while Peter.”

bla bla bla…

“Well I think it’s a mistake!”  I said.  I turned and walked away.  I couldn’t remember ever having believed in Santa.  When I was three I caught my parents stacking presents under the tree.  And by the time I was five, I knew exactly where to look for the presents my parents thought they had carefully hidden from me.”

 

Well if that isn’t just fantastic.  Now Christmas — nay, her entire childhood — is ruined.  The magic is all over.  I know — it was only a matter of time – I know.  Actually, this was probably a pretty easy way to “find out.”  Unless she actually already knew.  Which is certainly possible.  But still.  Crap. 

The problem with finding books for Kate is that she needs something  a little advanced…like for a 11-12 year old level reader.  But she is only 8.  So I need books that are appropriate topic and material for an eight year old.  Any suggestions?  I tried The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo, and pre-read that to make sure it was appropriate.  I found the selling of a little girl by her father (who never looked back, not even once) to a man that clouts her on the ear so much that her ears begin to look like cauliflower, and the mouse blood and bones and smell of death to be a little much thankyouverymuch.  So she’ll be waiting a little while to read that one.  Sheesh.  So please, your suggestions are very, very welcome.

And that’s pretty much it for this house for this week.  Night-night! 

Pink Jobs, etc.

Catchy title, don’t you think? 

Moving right along.

This weekend we had some friends over for a happy hour.  Oh how I love the happy hours.  Really.  

Outside.  Sunshine, warmth.  Chalk, bikes, bubbles.  The kids play.  The kids eat.  The adults talk.  The adults eat.  The margaritas flow.  Good times.  Sigh… 

Where was I?  Oh, right.  Happy hour.  So we’re all enjoying each others’ company and I totally missed the front end of this conversation but I did manage to hear the “…that’s a pink job” come out of the mouth of one of the men in our midst.  Let’s just call him Mr. Pink from now on.   

(Hi Mr. Pink!  Are you reading this?)

So yes, he said that pink job thing.  (I wish I could remember what job it was that he called “pink.”)  Anyhoo, there was a discussion that ensued, and I don’t really remember all of it.  Or any of it.  Except the pink comment. 

The idea is, I guess, that some jobs are “pink” and some jobs are “blue.”  Now, in this house, I don’t believe there are any pink or blue jobs.  There are jobs that I prefer to do myself for one reason or another, and there are jobs that The Man prefers to do himself.  Some jobs require strength that I don’t have.  Like mowing the lawn.  The Man likes to mow the lawn.  I concede that to him.  (If there IS a blue job, mowing the lawn is it, imho).   

So I’m just wondering.  Are there pink jobs and blue jobs?  Or am I just kidding myself?     

Oh, and we must all overlook Mr. Pink’s unfortunate position on pink jobs.  Because he makes the nice margaritas.  And if I’m being honest, I don’t want those to go away.  And also, he’s really a pretty nice guy.

***

In other news, one of the jobs ’round here has been claimed by Henry.  It is the “beer stocker.”  He has made it his number one priority to make sure the frigo is always fully stocked with beer.  I caught him doing it one day.  I walked into the kitchen and nearly tripped over a case of beer on the floor.  I wondered what the four little hoodlums had been doing with it, until I realized Henry was standing there, unloading beer from it and putting it in the frigo.  One small step for Henry, one giant leap for Mama.  Next I’m going to teach him how to pour a beer without a lot of head.  I’m kidding, of course.  He needs to know how to frost the mug before pouring.   

***

At what age do the table manners kick in?  Seriously, when? 

***

Ella throws her drinks.  Every single meal.  Every snack, every meal.  Everytime.  You should see her.  It’s rather comical if you’re not actually the one living through it.  She takes her sippy cup, turns it upside down and sucks furiously on it, and then chucks it across the table when she’s had enough.  I don’t get it.  Could she not set it down nicely? 

***

I’m featured over at 5 Minutes for Parenting’s A Dose of Humor!  Because I’m so very humorous.  Check it out!

A Few Miscellaneous Things

1.  Ella is almost two.  She’ll be two in 4 days.  Four days.  Two has always been one of my favorite ages with my kiddos.  They are able to communicate relatively well (which for Ella means a lot of pointing and shrieking and such).  They are so full of wonder at two.  Everything is new to them.  And Ella wants nothing more than to play with me, all day long.  To read books together, to have tea together, to cradle our babies and comb our hair and blow bubbles.  Together. 

Two. 

That’s what it’s all about.

 

2.  Note to self…read bottle labels before you wash your face.  Otherwise you might douse your face with nail polish remover.  And also, if you notice that the astringent smells ”so much stronger than you remember it smelling,” perhaps that is because it is actually not astringent, but nail polish remover. 

 

3.  There is apparently some bullying on the bus to and from school.  And my little boy is bearing the brunt of it.  Crap.  I don’t know who the little creep is, but when I find out, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.  That ought to freak him out enough to stop telling William he’s going to beat him up.  I kid.  A little.  In all seriousness, William is not terribly upset about it.  He said “I’m handling it.  I’m taking care of it.”  Isn’t that the cutest thing for a seven year old boy to say?  I’m just glad school is about over so this issue can evaporate over the summer. 

 

4.  My frog is gone.  Y’all remember my frog, and my wierd little obsession with him, right?  My poor little frog.  I don’t know what happened to him.  And this year he had a friend with him.  They’re both gone.  The Man casually postulated that a bird got them.  Thankyouverymuch for that, Mr. Man. 

 

5.  I made more cake pops oh.yes.I.did.  They are so fancy!  I think I could sell them, seriously.  Except that they don’t really taste that great, imho.  Henry likes them.  And last night I caught Ella lying on her belly on the island biting into one of them.  She seemed to rather enjoy it, too.  

There is a secret to making these things work.  I figured it out.  Actually, there are several secrets.  And okay, I actually figured them out by reading them on Bakerella’s site.  This is why they call me savvy, people. 

 

6.  We are on furlough #2 here this week.  Oh, it’s fun.  It’s a funlough.  I have nothing more to say. 

 

7.  We have  a winner in the Uprinting poster print giveaway! 

These results were audited by the firm of Me & TheMan, LLP. 

Brooke is the winner!  Brooke, enjoy your poster print. 

Uprinting does all sorts of printing online, from poster prints to canvas prints…the possibilities are endless folks. 

That is all.

Random things on my mind

1.  This new word “uber.”  I have seen it about 4 times in the last week, yet never once prior to that in the last 38 years.  You know how a word just starts showing up, and everyone uses it because it’s the new cool word?  Like ‘ping’ that all the techie-blackberry-user people use.   Or the ‘pop’ that all the fashion designers like to use.  So anyway, uber appeared to be a substitute for the word ’super’ in most instances that I read it.  So I looked it up.  Well guess what?  It’s a cognate of the Latin ’super’ and greek ‘hyper’.  So there you go.  Why not just say super?  or really? or very ?  Interestingly (or maybe not), it also can be used to say “cool.”  As in you are so uber.  If someone was really cool, would they be uber uber?

2.  Chip -n- Dale.  You know, the chipmunks.  Let’s keep in mind here that I am close to 40.  And it just now dawned on me that chip -n- dale is a play on chippendale.  How has that escaped me for the better part of my life?  I’m right, right?  It is a play on chippendale, right?

3.  Did you ever wonder who the idiots are that order those ugly checks?  For instance the checks with ducks taped up with duct tape and they say “duck tape” all over them…or ducks with backpacks that sport “backquackers” around the border.  Who are the people that buy those anyway? 

That would be me. 

I honestly don’t know what I was thinking when I bought them.  But I did.  I don’t know what is wrong with me.

4.  I’m sure I’ve mentioned the happy hours.  I know Jenny has.  Keep in mind these are family friendly.  Not raucous.  We do not play wierd games like Darcie does.  Here is my girl’s interpretation of the happy hour…

 

Please note what I believe to be me, in the center there, toasting with a glass of wine while I completely ignore the angry boy chasing the laughing girl (who is clearly egging him on).  I apparently have no concern for the baby playing in close proximity to the hot grill.  Oh, and The Man is doing all the cooking while I lounge.  Because that’s how I roll. 

5.  And finally, Uprinting.com has offered one of my readers a nice giveaway…and just in time for Father’s Day, too!  Since you, my readers, are a rather small (though highly sophisticated) pool of people, you’ve got a great shot at winning.  Uprinting.com does an assortment of things, including poster prints and even canvas prints online.   And they’ve offered one of y’all a free 18×24 poster print!  Here’s what I’m thinking I would do with mine…

I would love love LOVE seeing this on my family room wall in poster size.

So here’s what you’ve got to do to enter…it’s nothing terribly exhausting, don’t worry.  Just leave me a comment telling me what you’d do with your poster print! 

If you’d like a second entry, link to this post on your blog.  Let me know in a second comment that you’ve done so.  Remember, I’m not all that quick with the wit.  It might confuse me if you try to combine your entries into one comment.

You do not need to be a blogger to enter!  Please make sure I have a way to contact you if you win.  Otherwise, I’ll have to choose another winner.

Deadline to enter is Wednesday June 3, 6:32pm, EST.  That’s Virginia time, in case you aren’t savvy with the time.  Time’s Up!!!  Congratulations to Brooke!

–Pause to say that I cannot say the word savvy without hearing the following in my head:  “Law don’t go ’round here, lawdog.  Savvy?”  Perhaps I’m dating myself with that quote…–

I’ll choose a winner at random (which probably means picking a name out of a hat) and post the winner on at some point on Thursday!  Oh, one more little thingy…this is only open to US/CAN residents.  I love all y’all…but those are the rules.   

Good luck!!!

What I learned this week. Take note.

1.  When your child (who is having a severe reaction to an immunization) tells you “Hey mom, my pee was pink!” it will also happen to be the only time he has flushed the potty without you reminding him in the last month.   

2.  Since you didn’t actually SEE the pee, you have to google what pink pee indicates.  It indicates blood in the urine, which is what you thought in the first place.  So you google causes of pink urine.  Which brings up lots of scary kidney problems that you can’t pronounce.

3.  Google may or may not be a fear-monger.

4.  When you call the pediatrician’s office to discuss pink urine, they will not calm your fears.  The freak-out is detectable in their voice, though they try to hide it.   

5.  Little boys might not actually have pink pee when they say they do.  But then again, they might.  Hard to say. 

6.  “Pink” has many shades.

7.  When googling the causes of pink urine, you will find that eating fresh beets can cause your urine to turn pink.  Interestingly, canned beets do not have the same effect.  Also, not everyone who eats fresh beets will have pink urine.  I am curious to know how this subject comes to be discussed.  Unless I’ve had a LOT of alcohol, I can’t imagine bringing up the color of my urine at a social event.   

8.  Ella needs a daily nap.  Enough said about that.

9.  Ella is still cute as a button when she’s really cranky. 

10.  A glass of wine takes the edge off.  Okay, I already knew that.  Whatever.

11.  You can rejoice all you want when a weekday baseball game is rained out.  But be prepared for the make-up game.  Because it’s coming.  And the new date and time won’t be any better than the original. 

12.  T.G.I.F.  Okay, I already knew that, too.  Whatever whatever.

That’s pretty much all I have to say.   Visit Musings of a Housewife if you are inclined to learn more.  Hopefully no one else is posting information on urine and beets.

Just Stuff

1. 

I think they were worth it.  At first I wasn’t sure…they were lookin’ kinda sparse…  But they really pop out at you, especially as you drive up.  The only problem?  They make me want more.  And I’ve kind of forgotten how painful all that digging was.

2.  A funny thing Ella does…  She’s got a corn habit.  If she hears the freezer open, she runs over as fast as she can, yelling ”baby, baby, baby” (which is what she calls herself), shoves me aside and grabs a bag of frozen corn and sucks on it.  I have no idea.  I just think it’s pretty funny.

3.  When I blew Henry a kiss the other night, he said he could do magic…  “I can swallow it, and it will pop out my nipple” said he.  I swear I don’t know where he comes up with this stuff. 

4.  My little buddy is back…I’ve been wondering if he’d be back.  And then Friday afternoon he appeared.  Yay!  In case you’ve forgotten, his name is Beanstix.  Although judging from this picture, I think he may need a slightly more fierce sounding name.  His expression is rather intense.

5.  I went out on a limb and bought the cheap-o brand dry sweeper cloths instead of the swiffer cloths.  I figured I’d take a walk on the wild side, you know.  That, my friends, was a mistake.  The swiffer brand of dry sweeper cloths is WAY better.  And they’re not even payin’ me to say so.  But maybe the Swiffer people will stumble across this unpaid advertisement and send a few free boxes of dry sweeper cloths my way.  A girl can dream, anyway.

6.  When did my dreams sink to imagining free swiffer cloths arriving at my door?

7.  I have abandoned the nickel system.  Remember that fun little rule I instituted regarding hitting?  The one where if you hit someone, the hittee would get one of the hitter’s nickels?  Yeah.  Well it seemed that little Henry was becoming a wealthy man due to his big brother’s lack of self control.  To be fair, Henry knows how to egg his big brother on.  And when he began to understand the concept of “if he hits me, I get his money,” well let’s just say he used it to his advantage.  So no more nickels.  Searching for the next great punishment–I mean reward–system.   

8.  Spring, I love you.

Very Little

Yeah.  I pretty much have very little to say. 

I said I was creating ideas for a book.  I kind of may have stretched the truth a little with that statement.  Or semi-lied.  I actually am thinking of creating some ideas for a book.  Because the sheet of paper with the ideas has been sitting on my island for like two months now.  And the numbers stuff is basically over.  Which means I pretty much have no excuse for NOT getting to work on the ideas.

Except that I fear the assignment. 

It’s so much like writing a paper for school.  I can remember waiting until the weekend before a paper was due, and stressing about it for weeks, literally, and then sitting down for an entire day and banging it out.  Write.  Rewrite.  Done.  And I would wonder, every time, what I was so afraid of. 

***

Oh, here’s something that’ll make y’all really jealous…

That was sarcasm in case you didn’t realize it.

This is how my island looks every.single.afternoon around 3:30.

That would be exactly ten minutes after the kids get home from school. 

Every morning, it is clear, but for two little (truly) stacks of my things.  And then the mail comes.  And I start working on something.  And I fold the laundry, and in an effort to keep Ella from unfolding it, it ends up on the island.  Then the children come home, and they empty out their folders, and I get three sets of very very similar (if not identical) information.  And I’m forbidden by The Man from throwing any of that away because he wants to be involved and see what they’re bringing home.  And the snacks are eaten, and the cups and napkins and snack trash and crumbs.  And the homework.  Oh, the homework. 

It is exhausting just thinking about it. 

***

Moving right along. 

***

I am learning the camera.  It needs some serious learning.  Like when it says to choose the AV1 mode setting, while keeping the aperture fully open (for example, f/2.8 or an even lower f/ number, depending on your lens).  Wha?  Yeah, so no pictures on here until I figure all that bologna out.

***

Oh, back when I mentioned that I put the laundry up on the island to keep Ella away from it?  Yeah, well that doesn’t work anymore because she has figured out how to scale it.  Nothing is safe anymore.  Even if I move all the stools away, she pushes them back when I’m not looking so she can get up on the island.  Sneaky is what she is.  And I don’t even know where she gets that.

***

Ordered some mulch.  The Man postulated we hire someone to do the spreading of said mulch.  I said no, because I actually enjoy the spreading part.  And then he told me it would cost an extra $500 to have someone spread it.  Maybe I should be looking into a new line of work is what I’m thinking…

And regarding the spreading of the aforementioned mulch, I have one thing to say…

Ow. 

Ow is what my entire body is screaming one day post-spreading.  Do you know what 10 cubic yards of mulch looks like?  It looks big.  A big, heaping, steamy pile of half decayed wood.  And we only got maybe 5 yards spread.  That means we have 5 left.  (I’m real good with the math). 

***

William.

Oh William.

He says “Daddy, I’m going to be on my best behavior at the store.”  And, running over to me ”Mom, I haven’t hugged you today.”  This is the real William.  The one that I’ve been missing lately.  This weekend we took away the Wii and the DS.  From all of the children.  For a long time.  Coincidence?

***

One last thing.  The Man has a very bad habit of leaving his dirty socks lying on our bedroom floor.  I don’t get it, I really don’t get it.  Most of the time, I just pick them up and put them in the hamper.  But every now and then, just for fun I stuff them in his pillowcase.  Ha ha ha!  Yes I do!  And then I sit there and crack up thinking about how funny I am, and how funny it will be when he tries to figure out why his pillow is lumpy and realizes it has his dirty socks stuffed inside it. 

But then you know what he does?  He finds something of mine that I’ve left out (which you know, is very rare) and stuffs it in my pillowcase.  And I am not amused.  At all.  But I’m sure he is.  I’m going to think of some really good way to get him.  Are you reading this Mr. Man?  Just you wait…

And I’ll leave it there.  If you don’t hear from me, I could very well be lying in bed, unable to get up (what with the mulch-induced stiffness and all)…

My Life in Dribbles

Because I don’t have a lot going on besides dribbles.  First, here are a couple gems from Kate:

-when I told her to try not to get ketchup (catsup?-which is correct???  whatever…) on her clothes, because that just makes more work for me, she said, and I quote, “at least they invented washing machines.”  Mm-hm.  And I can’t wait to teach her how to use it.

-I didn’t hear the entire conversation, just this little zinger at the end:  ”Yeah, ’cause Mommy is WAY smarter than Daddy.”  Finally someone around here gets it.

***

Fat Tuesday is tomorrow.  Which means Lent begins Wednesday.  Which means I need to make my annual attempt at denying myself some little pleasure.  A couple months ago, I figured I’d give up the wine.  And now, I’m thinking there is a snowballs chance in you-know-where that I’m going to be giving up the wine.  The flesh is weak.  Very, very weak.

***

Cherry twizzlers taste like cough medicine.  I bought some the other day so we could eat them during our family movie night.  And I decided later in the day that I needed one.  So I tore open the package, and took a bite and seriously, it felt like I was chewing on congealed robitussin.  Disappointing.  Very.Disappointing.

***

Ella ate 1/3 can of beets the other day.  I ate the other 2/3.  Because they.are.so.good.  

*** 

Why do I spend so much time thinking and talking about food?

***

I watched this movie on Lifetime last night.  Stephanie Daley it was called.  I don’t know if I have ever seen a more disturbing movie on television.  It was just bizarre on a whole lotta levels.  Not a good movie to entertain yourself with right before beddybye. 

***

Finally, here is my entry for the B&W I heart faces contest this week…

   

Go to I heart faces to see more entries.

Blank

There is just nothing left in my head after three days heavy on accounting.  I don’t know how people do this for a living.  I really don’t.  My mind is numb after a couple hours.  Let me tell you a fun little story. Imagine me, waking up this morning all happy and fresh and ready to go, grabbing my coffee, and hopping onto my computer.  And trying to open the document I worked on for hours the previous day, and I can’t find it.  Because apparently I didn’t save it.  Or I saved it in some wierd file that I cannot find.  And it is the absolute worst part of the accounting process…the internal controls part.  In a word…sucky.  And I had to do it over.  All over people.    Four more hours of documenting our internal controls. 

***

This weekend was so beautiful I actually contemplated the idea of running.  I mean like for exercise.  

Me:  Kate, I think I might start running.

Kate:  YOU?

Me:  Yeah, me, why not? 

Kate:  Well, um, it just doesn’t really seem like you.

Yeah, she’s right.  I’m just going to go back to cookies.  They’re more like me.

***

Later in the day, Kate and I had a conversation about the temperature, and how men always seem to be warmer than women.  I asked her why she thought that was, and she said maybe because men are more active.  “You know, Daddy is always outside and doing stuff, and you are always inside.”  Mm-hm.

“And what do you think I do in there all day?” 

“You know, you’re just kind of still, and doing work on your computer.”  Mm-hm.

And the laundry just magically does itself, the supper is prepared by the phantom chef, the groceries are purchased with my personal assistant and the nanny chases Ella all day long.  Among all the other stuff I don’t do.  Because I need to be still. 

***

Having dreams about blog friends.  Nothing wierd.  Just normal.  Like we’re having coffee or something.  Or squeezing key limes.  Darcie, I had a dream that I bought a bag of those key limes, and you wouldn’t believe the amount of juice that came out of one of those teeny tiny little limes.  And I actually thought, in my dream, “I’m going to have to tell Darcie about this.”   

I wonder why people buy those key limes…are they better?  I mean, because they are SMALL.  And I’m just thinking it would take a lot of them make any measurable amount of liquid.

***

Henry has learned how to skip.  He is the first one of the kids to learn how to skip before kindergarten.  A little triumph for him.  The children are always assessed for skipping in kindergarten.  Apparently there is some correlation between the ability to skip and the ability to read.  Or something.  I don’t know.  Anyway, there has been no correlation so far in my home with skipping and reading.  Both Kate and William learned to read WELL before learning to skip.  In fact, I don’t even know if William can skip yet.  I haven’t checked his skipping skills lately.  And Henry can skip, but not read.  So there you have it.  The theory of skip-readability has been disproven.   You’re welcome.

***

Want to know what song I’m singin’ in my little head today?  Crunchy, Munchy Honey Cakes.  You’re welcome.  There has been a steady stream of Wiggles tunes penetrating the solitude around here since The Man is home all week on his funlough.  Who really says muslix flakes anyway?  Is there such a think as muslix flakes?  I mean other than the cereal?  Can you just go and buy muslix flakes to use in your cooking?

Alrighty.  TTFN.  Crunchy munchy honey cakes…crunchy munchy honey cakes…crunchy munchy honey cakes…crunchy munchy honey cakes…