Not pulling the plug, though. I might come back to it some day. Or not. Whatever.
Today, when I picked Sam up from day care/preschool, I had picked him up a Bug Juice. He loves Bug Juice. In fact, when we drive past the gas station where I’ve taken him to pick out his own flavor of sugar-filled drink, he yells, “There’s the Bug Juice store!!!”
But today, I had one waiting for him when I picked him up. No, my children aren’t spoiled, why do you ask?
He had been running around playing outside, and was sticky and hot, so he was super excited to have a cold drink. He took a huuuge gulp, and then said:
“Ahhhhhhhh!!!! That sure hits the spot!”
He’s such a funny boy.
Tonight, leaving the Back to School Bash and meeting her new teacher . . .
(by the way, did you know I’m the parent of a FOURTH GRADER???????? Ack. Meep.)
Here’s what she said:
“I can’t believe I’m going to be in 4th grade”
“Pretty soon, I’ll be in middle school, then high school. Then I’ll be going to college.”
“Man, time sure is going by fast!”
Please note that I restrained myself from driving off the road, despite my amusement at her angst.
The teen years are going to be a hoot.
So I’m sitting out on the front porch with the kids. They’ve made a fort out of umbrellas, and are enjoying the thunder, lightning, and occasional rain shower. Sam was talking about the thunder being scary, and Lauren and I explained what thunder is. Then they were having fun pretending to be scared.
Sam started talking about the wind, and how it can blow things down.
Like tree limbs.
Yeah, I don’t know where he comes up with this stuff either!
On my way home at lunch time to let the dog out, I passed a cattle truck. On the back of the truck was a honking huge sign that said:
BEEF: It’s what vegatarians dream about . . .
First of all, I don’t really call myself a vegetarian, because I do eat some seafood and poultry. But I don’t eat red meat at all, haven’t for 27+ years – so I think that sign was kind of applicable.
I don’t dream about eating a cow. Ever.
But really – vegatarians???? If you’re a carnivore, more power to you. But if you’re going to be an aggressive sort of a carnivore, learn to spell first.
I *hate* to be late. But I am sometimes late to work by 15 minutes or so, depending on what time Mark leaves with the kids. I get ready really fast, far faster than most chicks. I’m sort of a low-maintenance kind of a girl.
Today, it’s a good thing that I’m late. I was just getting ready to walk out the door when Mark called from our building.
Well, from outside our building.
Apparently there’s a fire in the tower, and they’ve evacuated. There’s no sense driving down there to stand outside in the rain, so I’m going to work from home for a bit.
I may have to re-think this whole promptness thing.
In the book:
And for reals:
Hey, I don’t have a food stylist, and they actually look better than this picture would seem to indicate. But the real fun part is how much these cupcakes have been freaking out people at work.