Children's television programming: Vacillates between awesome and downright frightening. Seriously people: Yo Gabba Gabba is weird. I don't like it. On the other hand, Wonder Pets cracks me up, and Wiggle Man likes it, too.
(Wiggle Man has been under the weather this week, so we've watched a lot of t.v. A lot.)
My hair: it's curly. Curly is a pain in the you-know-where. Curly gets in my face, and when Wiggle Man is done playing with is, I resemble nothing so much as a Brillo pad. Perhaps one day I'll show you pictures. This is why I straighten it. I like it that way. I know people pay good money to have curly hair. But conversely, people pay good money to straighten their hair, to go blonde, to go red, to go brunette, to cut it, to add extensions...you name it, people do it.
My bathroom scale (and my waistline, by association): you make no sense. It's not fair that you play nice one week, and not so nice the week after. I mean, if running 13 miles in a week and being moderately careful with my diet gets me a two pound weight loss, it seems only fair that if the following week I run 15 miles and use the nautilus machines and am even more careful with my diet, that I should lose at least the same two pounds. Gaining a pound that week is just cruel. I'm just sayin'.
Febreeze: Thanks for making the Downy scent. Now we need to work on a support group for people who fanatically spray it on everything in the house.
Memorial Day: Thanks for coming. Now I can freely wear the white pants and shoes I've been wearing for a month and a half now.
Denim Diapers: WHY? "I poo in blue." Seriously, friends. This sounds like something I would make up as a joke after eating wayyyyy too many M&Ms.
Caramels: I'm glad I bought you today. Regardless of what I said to the scale earlier, I have some room in my calorie allotment for you today.
Kisses,
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