Saturday, July 11, 2009

I love Target. David came up with a term that he likes to call a "Targasm". Whenever I'm in a bad mood, or stressed out, he tells me to go have a Targasm. And I do. And I come home completely happy and refreshed. Just being there restores my sense of peace and serenity. It's my Zen place.

I was there today and filled up my cart with goodies galore from the dollar bins, and clearance racks. However, I think everyone would be pleased to know that I came home with only a toilet bowl brush and a 6-pack of ribbon (from the dollar bins mind you, and don't worry it was 50% off which means it was only $.50.) Thank you very much. Yeah. I know. It's too bad David doesn't even care, because he would probably be proud.

Wayne Dyer taught me something. He was talking about the law of necessity or something on a C.D. I listen to in my car (thanks sis. See, I listen). Anyway he said, "You don't really need anything. (Long pause). Because you've already proven you can live without it." Or something to that effect. I have started thinking about that lately mostly when I've filled my shopping cart with nonsense. So when I was about to go checkout at Target today, I looked in my basket and decided that I did in fact need the toilet bowl brush because #1 it's making me crazy to sit on my toilet knowing it's super disgusting, and #2 it actually looks discusting. Thirdly, I did need the 6-pack of ribbon because Sadie needs those colors of bows. See. I'm awesome.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Story Number 1:

This one time David and I were cleaning out the kitchen. Like any good parent would, we sat our child on the oven. We have one of the completely flat electric ones and she was fussy so it seemed the best option (we also have a small kitchen and it was the only part of the kitchen that was clean). So anyway, she was sitting there enjoying her life. David reached for something out of the cupboard above the oven when all of a sudden, the red pepper flakes fell out. That's fine right? They didn't hit her or anything but they did turn on the oven! You can see where this is going right? Yeah, well it started to heat up and so did she. She started crying and wailing. David caught it in time and she was fine. There is no damage. Not even a little red mark as proof that this happened. Although if you want to call CPS, I understand.

Story Number 2:

Jackson got a hold of the baby powder. The end.

No really, he dumped the entire contents out all over the couch, himself and sissy girl. It was the cutest thing ever. I still haven't cleaned it up because it's sort of nice to have a "soft" floor. It's not going to be nice when someone falls on their butt cause it's actually slippery. I wish I could explain to you how funny it was. I have a picture. I'll share it.