1. I’m late posting today because I had to go to the dentist for a
torture session six-month cleaning and my brain was on the fritz because when that appointment rolls around on the calendar, I can only self-medicate with Cheetos and rock and in a corner until it’s over. My hygienist, Karen, is a lovely person but she’s chatty and I am NOT chatty while I’m in the chair because 1) my mouth is stuffed with sharp, pointy things and 2) see above re: brain on the fritz and 3) I’m worried about having someone so close to my pores and 4) I have to be listening to music through earbuds at WHO concert levels to drown out the pick-y sound of the scrapey thing. But bless her heart, it did not stop her from being talkative and so I lowered and raised the volume a thousand times so I could grunt “uh-huh” and “vslkgn;owhvljnlak sekdlignownd” and carry on some semblance of a conversation because I do not like to be rude and I was wearing my “Tell Me Your Life Story” sign today and so we managed to make our way through the ordeal and I’ve lived to tell the story.
2. I have to have ANOTHER crown.
Shoot me now.
3. Craig and I had a little date night on Saturday night which consisted of wandering the aisles at Walgreens.
Fanning the ardent flames of love, we were.
And getting an early start on the Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs.
4. I did not watch the Oscars last night since I hadn’t seen any of the movies nominated and I find the whole program to be a little self-serving and
, yes, I’ve become a curmudgeon at the ripe old age of 43. We instead watched quality counter-programming on the Cooking Channel where I was riveted by an episode of “My Food Obsession” about a girl (who looked exactly like Christina Aguilera) who was afraid of mayonnaise. And when I say afraid, I mean she couldn’t even walk down the mayonnaise aisle at the grocery store and wouldn’t let her poor fiancé eat tartar sauce.
I love shows about people’s weird behaviors. It somehow makes my own food choices seem a bit more normal.
Grilled banana mayonnaise sandwich, anyone?
5. Speaking of people who are off (and off their rocker), parenting teenagers is not for the faint of heart. One minute they’re the sweetest, funniest, kindest of human beings, and the next minute they are snapping at you and, um, how shall I say it, NOT BRINGING THEIR “A” GAME and you swear aliens have invaded Earth and chosen your kids as the entry point.
I’d be lying if I said we weren’t in the thick and the throes of it in our house and we’ve had a few situations where I thought I was going to pull my hair out (or put someone out on the porch and change the locks) but then there are moments, precious, precious ones like last night where time stands still and that half-child, half-man plops down on the couch next to you and puts his head in your lap and lets you brush the hair back from his forehead for just a nano-second and all is so very right in the world.
And then you take a picture because everything’s all warm and fuzzy and he groans and rolls his eyes and says “You love me too much, Mom. You need to cut that out.”
Have a nice day.