Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I saw this on Kristen's & had to have it for my own blog...

Not sure I agree completely with the myheritage.com website's results, but it was fun to do! Let me know whether or not you concur!





Tuesday, November 27, 2007

"You've got mail???" I *NEED* mail!! Send me an email!


Our computer had a little melt-down this week and I lost all my email addresses and contacts. (Yeah, I know I should have printed out a hard-copy...live & learn...)
Anyway, I need all my friends and family to please shoot me a quick li'l email so that I can save your address in my email contacts list.
Our email address is: brettandhope@gmail.com
Thanks so much! Happy emailing!

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Hold up, Mister! I want to take a picture of your truck!

I had just dropped Halle off at school when this truck whizzes past me. Don't ask me why, but at first I thought the orange thing in the truckbed was large rolled up piece of orange foam--like the kind of foam you'd sleep on camping. But as I got closer I realized, "What in the world?! It's the Great Pumpkin!" Seriously, this thing was H-U-G-E! Or as some people (he-hum...author clears throat and raises eyebrow, directed at certain readers...you know who you are) would say: "GINORMOUS!"

I maneuver myself behind the oversized plant and whip out my camera at the redlight so I can take a picture. Then I look to my right to see the driver next to me giving me weird "What are you doing?" looks. So I point to the pumpkin and gesture with my hands, "Look at that...it's a pumpkin. The size of a truckbed! Wouldn't you take a picture, too?"

You only WISH you had your camera, lady.

Please pass the milk?





As promised, here are the pictures taken of the "Corn Flakes Incident" (see the post "If You Can Laugh About It Now..."). Look at Wyatt's face in the one on the left. It was totally, "Uh-Oh...Mom's gonna kill me!" And then he just stood there, as if "Maybe if I don't move, she won't know that I'm here". What am I, a T-Rex? (Jurassic Park reference. I'm a dork.)

Florence Nightingale, I ain't.

So this is device that attacked my sweet baby's hand. Sure, it appears to be all innocent, sitting there unplugged and cool as a cucumber. But insert those metal prongs into the outlet and...LOOOOOOK OUT! It springs to life radiating dangerous and vengeful heat...

Actually, I feel totally guilty because I plugged it in & left it on the counter with the cord hanging below. Naturally, when Carson came into my bathroom, the first thing to catch his eye was the dangling black temptation--babies are much like kittens in this way. He grabbed it, pulled it onto the floor by him, and then managed to make contact between the flat iron's scorching hot ceramic plates and the back of his hand.

We've been lucky that it seems to not have bothered him beyond the first five minutes of the accident, but he simply would not leave the bandaging alone. Desperate times called for desperate measures, so on went the sock. I covered his hand with one of his socks, taped it onto his arm, and then cut out a hole for his thumb. (Yes, he is a thumbsucker.) It was a hit at the grocery store!

Here are some pictures of his makeshift medical treatment.


I want to eat, eat, eat, apples & bananas...


"Welcome to Cafe Madre. Would you like to hear about today's specials? It is perfectly ripened banana--not too green, not too brown. Peeled by hand and then diced into safe, bite-size pieces. Perfect for little hands that are learning to grab and self-feed. And if the gentleman grows weary of eating the delicacy, it is also ideal for throwing onto the floor or wearing on the face."

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Two syllables people: "T. - V." (Warning--this post is lengthy & pretty much pointless. Mostly just killin' time until I have a husband again.)





OK...this blog entry is dedicated to all those late-night comedy reruns that we all neglect to appreciate for their true value and contribution to our lives.



Sure, we live our everyday lives without giving them a second thought...UNTIL we find ourselves awake at midnight (or later). Why? Well, our insomnia could be brought on my many reasons: stress, food cravings, nightmares from a child, sickness of a child, sickness of yourself, or in my case--spousal absenteeism. (Is that even a word or did I just make that up?) Brett has been out of town on business for 3 days now and not likely to return for another 2. He will find this blog ironic because normally, I am wiped out and ready for bed by 10:00, if not earlier. I am a major party-pooper. HOWEVER, when he is not around, I find that although I am physically ready to sleep, emotionally I dread going to bed without him, so I postpone it by watching 2-3 hours of TV Land or Nick-At-Nite (don't judge me...you've all had your fair share of marathons in front of the boob tube--by the way, I googled "boob tube" to make sure I was spelling it correctly and using it in the right context (apparently for Americans and Canadians, I am). I wouldn't recommend entering that into a search engine again. YIKES.)

Anyway, I decided to turn the TV off tonight and instead do something productive. Write a blog about it! At least about my favorite late-night shows. Paying homage to them, in a way, you could say. And I know most of you won't want to read this post, so no offense taken. At least participate in the poll at the top right!

So if I haven't lost you by now, enjoy the following excerpts from my favorite episodes. These are the ones that made me actually laugh out loud. The only thing better would be to re-watch them in person with my best friend. He is the ultimate sitcom-watching partner. ("Miss ya, Babe. Hurry home soon!") Maybe you have seen them yourself and they will bring a smile to your face as you remember your own moment of private laughter.

Cosby Show--Let's face it. You can't go wrong with the Huxtables. But the best episodes were from the early years. My (and Brett's) favorite episode is actually the pilot episode (the first ever). It's called "Theo's Economic Lesson". Theo brings home a poor report card and is trying to explain to his parents why he should not be punished. Cliff goes to Theo's room to discuss the matter.


Clair: "Cliff, why do we have five children?"

Cliff: "Because we did not want six."






Cliff: "Theo, your mother asked me to come up here and kill you."






Theo: "You're a doctor and Mom's a lawyer, and you're both successful in everything and that's great! But maybe I was born to be a regular person and have a regular life. If you weren't a doctor, I wouldn't love you less, because you're my dad. So rather than feeling disappointed because I'm not like you, maybe you should accept who I am and love me anyway, because I'm your son."

(At this point, violins are playing and as a viewer you are expecting this great Father-Son bonding moment.)

Cliff: "Theo... that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my life! No wonder you get D's in everything! You're afraid to try because you're afraid your brain is going to explode and it's going to ooze out of your ears. Now I'm telling you, you are going to try as hard as you can. And you're going to do it because I said so. I am your father. I brought you into this world, and I'll take you out!"


(Life according to Monopoly Money)

Cliff: "So how much does you expect to make a week for 'regular people'?"

Theo: "$250"

Cliff (pointing to the bed): "Sit down. I will give you $300 a week. $1200 a month." (Cliff hands the money to Theo)

Theo: "I'll take it!"

Cliff: "And I will take $350 for taxes."

Theo: "Whoa!"

Cliff: "Oh, yeah. See, the government goes for the regular people first. So, how much does that leave you with?"

Theo: "$850."

Cliff: "Okay, now you'll need an apartment because you are NOT living here. Now an apartment in Manhattan will run you at least $400 a month."

Theo: "I'll live in New Jersey." (Theo takes back $200)

Cliff: "Now you'll need a car." (Cliff takes $300)

Theo: "I'll drive a motorbike." (Theo takes back $100)

Cliff: "You're gonna need a helmet." (Cliff takes $50) "Now figure $100 a month for clothes and shoes."

Theo: "Figure $200. I wanna look GOOD."

Cliff: "So, how much does that leave you with?"

Theo: "$200. So, no problem."

Cliff: "There IS a problem! You haven't EATEN yet!" (Cliff takes $100)

Theo: "I can get by on bologna and cereal." (Theo takes back his $100) "So I've got everything under control PLUS $200 left for the month."

Cliff: "You plan to have a girlfriend?"



Theo: "For sure." (Cliff takes the remaining $200) Cliff (pointing at Theo's empty hand): "Regular people."






I know I've written a lot about The Coz, but one more episode is noteworthy. It's the one where Cliff and Clair want to give Cliff's parents a cruise for their anniversary. Anyway, I don't recall all that happens but at the end, the entire family--Cliff, Claire, and their 5 children, including irrepressible 5-year old Rudy (who adorably is missing teeth) perform an impromptu lip synch on the staircase to Ray Charles' "Night Time is the Right Time"--who can forget Rudy's "Baaaaaabay" with her mouth opened as wide as it can get and those teethless gaps staring at you. So cute!



Wings--Wings had so many great characters. Who didn't love Antonio, the unlucky-in-love cab driver from Italy? And what about Faye, who married three husbands, all with first name George--and all who DIED. But my all-time favorite was...(drumroll, please)...Lowell. Lowell Mathers won me over with his eccentricities (is there spell-check on blogspot, because I think I just spelled that wrong) and dim-witted antics. Here are a couple great quotes from our favorite airline mechanic--some of the best ones are between Lowell and Roy Biggins:




Lowell: "I give blood all the time. Just between you and me, Roy, I'll do anything for a sugar cookie."


Joe Hackett: Lowell, where you going?

Lowell Mather: Oh, to clear my mind.

Roy Biggins: Shouldn't take long. One good sneeze ought to do it.



I Love Lucy--Lucille Ball paved the way for nearly sixty years of television sitcoms when it premiered in October of 1951 (coincidentally the same year my parents were married!). In some ways I don't think the classic humor is appreciated now as it once was, which is a shame because it was the original, genuine stuff. Very talented and ahead of their time, the writers of this show were able to entertain the American public with situation comedy in a very non-offensive, clean way.


My favorite episode is from the second season and is called Lucy Wants New Furniture. Here's how one website describes it: "A frantic economy wave engulfs the Ricardo household. Lucy buys some furniture against Ricky's orders and is forced to pay for it out of her own allowance. Ricky confiscates the furniture and takes it to the club until it's paid off. Lucy also needs a new dress and a new hairstyle for the Carrolls' party at the Tropicana on Saturday night. She tries to make her own dress and then does some "permanent damage" in this episode." The permanent damage they speak of is with her hair, as well as their carpet. She tries to give herself a perm, but forgets to set the timer, so you can imagine the "hair-raising" result when it finally dawns on her to remove the curlers and rinse out the chemicals. As for the carpet, she tries to cut out a pattern for making herself a dress, but does not have scissors (except for her fingernail scissors, which do not work, to her dismay). Instead, she tries a razor blade on the pattern which she has laid out on her living room floor. She is so focused on her new task as seamstress, she does not realize she is not only cutting the fabric, but also the carpet!









Frasier--And finally, my favorite. (Check out the music I've got on the bottom right of my blog. Somewhere in there is the theme song.) Brett and I love the early years of Frasier so much we both bought the DVDs for each others' Christmas presents last year! This show had the best writing. Probably my favorite exchanges come between Frasier and his brother Niles.



Niles: And I stormed out and slammed the door! Of course, it was that fourteenth century Bavarian cathedral door, so I had to get two of the servants to help me, but what it lacked in spontanaity it made up for in resonance.



Niles: "At the Shangri-La [the name of Niles' dumpy apartment complex], the highlight of my day is getting out of bed, so I can slam it back into the wall!"

(THAT EPISODE IN GENERAL WAS JUST BRILLIANT. SHEER GENIUS! THERE ARE TOO MANY ONE-LINERS TO POST. I'M LAUGHING RIGHT NOW JUST THINKING ABOUT IT. BRETT, REMEMBER WHEN MARTIN OPENS THE CLOSET/IRONING BOARD TO FIND IT FULL OF FLANNEL SHIRTS???)



Niles: That was the same period where you insisted on wearing the wax earplugs and the slumbermask.
Frasier: Well I had to, what with you underneath the covers with a flashlight looking at the National Geographic.
Niles: I was looking at the maps.
Frasier: That's what makes it so scary.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

You'll shoot your eye out, Kid!

It's time to discuss my favorite holiday tradition. The Christmas Story. Quite possibly the best Christmas movie ever made. (Although Christmas Vacation and The Gathering (with Ed Asner) are close seconds.)


This is a 1983 film based on the short stories of author Jean Shepherd, who also narrates the film. We must have started the tradition right after it came out because as early as I remember we've been watching it during the holidays. I do love the movie--I think it's funny and just very, very real.

But I think what appeals to me most about it is just the tradition of it. It's almost like an extended family member that returns for another visit each Christmas. I love watching it because I know little Ralphie Parker's childhood was the same time as my dad's, so it gives me some insight into what kind of things he would have seen or may have experienced as a boy. I also think of my dad whenever I watch it because no one's got a true, gutteral laugh like his. If something really amuses him--I mean REALLY amuses him, his laugh is almost like a holler. You get this "Hoo-Hoo-Ha-Ha-Ha" sort of thing going on. His eyes tear up and his face gets red. Nothin' like it, I tell ya.

For those of you who have seen it, you'll understand when I say that for a long time I couldn't figure out why it was "so bad" for Ralphie to say "Oh, Fudge". "Fudge?" I'd think to myself. "What's so wrong with 'fudge'? Why'd he get Lifebuoy for that?"

Any mother can relate to the statement Jean Shephard makes in the narration, "My mother didn't get a hot meal for twelve years," as she is constantly getting up and down refilling family members' plates and fetching the salt and pepper. Parents can also relate to having a child like Randy, Ralphie's brother. "My kid brother hadn't eaten voluntarily in over three years."

Our family loves this movie so much that a few years ago, we all chipped in and bought my parents a leg lamp.




It was so popular in their front window that strangers would drive into their cul-de-sac just to get a glimpse of "electric sex gleaming in the window".
It's only November, but seeing the DVD on display at the store has just put me in the Christmas spirit. And it's wonderful to be where we'll hopefully have a white Christmas again. I want to put up lights. I want to listen to the Carpenters sing "Merry Christmas, Darling". I want to bake cookies and drink hot cocoa. I want to hang ornaments on the tree and wrap presents.
I've gotten myself so pumped for the holiday season--I feel like prancing down the hallway singing, " deck the halls with boughs of horry, ra ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra!"





Monday, November 5, 2007

This new blog entry is brought to you by another night of: Sleep Deprivation

Sleep Deprivation is not pretty, my friend. It's 12:08 a.m. and I finally gave up on sleeping anytime soon considering that I just got up on behalf of Wyatt's nightterrors for the fourth time since I went to bed only two and half hours ago.

Seriously, folks, I can't take it anymore. You may think I'm trying to sound dry or funny for the sake of some stupid blog, but those closest to me that are aware of the extreme situation know that I am on the brink. Of what, I don't know, and maybe as a parent and a control freak that's what scares me the most.

Recently, I had bought him a REWARD CALENDAR. If he could go all night without screaming or crying, he could have a sticker. He was so pumped for this--and seemed to be doing so well. We still had an occasional bad night, but really only once or twice a week. It's not 100% where we want to be, but emotionally it was doable. I don't know what triggered it, but last week nearly every night was bad. Last night was terrible, like tonight---several "episodes" within a short period of time.

I feel like we've asked our pediatricians, other parents, read every internet article, blah, blah, blah. I monitor closely what he's exposed to in books, TV, etc. that may give his subconscious "ammunition" for bad dreams. We're very careful in what we talk about at our house, to make sure nothing is ever said that can be construed as scary or "BAD DREAM MATERIAL". Even over Halloween, I was VERY, VERY careful not to let it be a scary or gruesome holiday experience, but rather a cutesie "dress-up" event. Where do you go, what do you do when no one seems to have the answer? He's been doing this now for a year and a half. I feel like in that time the nights Brett and I have had an uninterrupted night's sleep can be counted on just our hands.

We try to be patient because we know the nightmares are out of his control--even though the morning after he does not remember them, or remember waking, we feel badly for him. We can recall what it was like as little children to wake up and be frightened or anxious. We want our son to feel safe and unafraid. I used to worry that it was also detrimental to his physical health and growth having his sleep interrupted like that but two doctors have told me that his nightterrors are so deep in his subconscious that his body does not register waking up. That was a relief. But, both doctors (and all the internet articles, blah, blah, blah) also tell me that there is no "cure". Other than making sure fuel is not added to the fire by the things he is exposed to, we can only wait it out. That someday he will outgrow this phase, but it could take years. Some children in extreme cases are given sedatives. I honestly feel we have an extreme case. But after talking with doctors, this is a road I absolutely do not want to go down. The risks of a sedative for a child that young (and as small as Wyatt) heavily outweigh the benefits, and the benefits are really for Mom and Dad than the kid, as the kid does not remember waking up, and does not feel the repercussions of the problem. It would be selfish to put Wyatt at risk in any way.

Since September, however, it's gotten worse. We didn't think it could, but it has. The frequency, the intensity. And before, I think we derived some sort of comfort or helped maintain our patience, knowing that it was out of his control. That when he screamed like that, his eyes may be opened, but he's still asleep and dreaming. Lately, that has changed. Some nights, he'll scream and scream and when we go in there, he's fully awake. "I want a drink of water," is his usual excuse in these situations. So we've tried rewarding him for just "quietly coming to get mommy" when he needs us rather than waking the entire household with his yelling. I have to admit that it is beyond difficult to stay patient and loving when time after time you are awakened, sometimes just an hour between episodes, only to find your son is not having a nightmare, but rather, is awake and needs you for some classic childhood excuse--"I'm thirsty." "I'm not tired anymore." "I want to play." "I want to watch a movie."
I LOVE MY SON. I WANT TO HELP HIM. But I feel as though I'm teetering on the edge of a tall, black cliff. And if something doesn't change soon, I'm going to tumble over and downward, never able to make it back.

Friday, November 2, 2007

What are your favorite Weight Watchers (or HEALTHY) recipes?



Brett and I want to get back in the weight watcher's game, but I R-E-F-U-S-E to do it until I have at least an entire month's worth of WW recipes that we ENJOY ("enjoy" being the keyword). We loved doing WW before and it was great for us. We had a lot of success. My one complaint was that we really only had about 2 weeks of meals that we truly, honestly liked. The other 2 weeks of the months were recipes that were "ok"--we ate them because we were hungry, but it felt more like suffering through a diet rather than enjoying a lifestyle change.

I know there are websites out there with lots of recipes, but I want to hear from people I know--people that can vouch for a recipe because they've tasted it themselves. So...I'm on a mission. As soon as I have 30 recipes that I enjoy cooking--recipes which don't feel like we are force-feeding ourselves, we'll be back on the wagon and hopefully on our way to being (several) sizes smaller! Send me your healthy recipes. If you know the WW points, include that, along with serving sizes. If you don't know a specific WW recipe, but you know one that is low-sugar, low-fat, or low-carbs, but not low on taste, BRING IT ON!

Email them to me at brettandhope@gmail.com or post them as a comment on this blog.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Six Super-Insignificant Facts About Myself (this is for you, Mandy!)

1. Lately I am not sleeping well...even on the nights Wyatt does not have a night terror, I still sleep lousy.

2. Even if I focus all my energy into laundry (no errands, no other cleaning, etc) I struggle to get it washed, folded, hung, in a day. Am I a total laundry-loser???

3. I am very excited about a fireside my ward is having next week with Julie De Azevedo called "Preventing Emotional Burnout". So many women need this fireside!!!

4. I am also very excited about next Tuesday's Law & Order: SVU episode. (I'm such a dork, I know.)

5. The first 3 things I do when I wake up in the morning are: 1) Potty, 2) Put on my glasses so I don't bump into the walls, and 3) Slowly drink a mug of hot chocolate.

6. I love that Brett says "fer" instead of "for". It's entirely unintentional, but I think it's so cute--I notice it most when he's praying during family prayer. Love it!

I'm now supposed to send this to 6 friends that have blogs. Considering the only ones I know that didn't send this to me first are Kristen & Ashlee, I guess they can now consider themselves "TAG, YOU'RE IT!"

If you can laugh about it later, you might as well laugh about it now

I feel like the past 7 days have given me 3 experiences which I feel most parents can relate to in one way or another.

#1. The first one happened last week while shopping in Wal-Mart. One thing you should know about our feelings towards Wal-Mart. We love it in the sense that we can get the things we need in one location, things that sometimes are harder to find elsewhere. We also feel Wal-Mart is a necessity in our lives for our budget. However, I feel I spend too much time in Wal-Mart...not intentionally, just necessarily, and according to Brett, "after 30 minutes in Wal-Mart, one begins to lose braincells".

So...last week I'm at WallyWorld with Carson and Wyatt while Halle is at school. Carson's new game is throwing objects--any object--from the cart over and over (and over again). It's a game that gets old real fast, but I'd rather be bending down, picking up after him time and again than listen to him cry, so...it's the lesser of two evils. Wyatt's new game is his insistance over wearing his red baseball cap everywhere we go. During this particular shopping excursion, we'd been in the store for an hour when I realize the bottle is missing. The last time I remembered seeing Carson hold it was about 3 rows and 3 aisles back. SIGH...trudge the grocery-laden cart and the wandering 3-year old back towards the "Home" department and look for the bottle. Crawl on hands and knees to see if bottle is under the shelves. Nope. OK...give up. Accept bottle is gone. Get back to checking off grocery list. Twenty minutes later head up front to check out (Hallelujah!). After checking out, I am putting the bags into the cart--regarding this, by the way, I am always paranoid I haven't collected all my bags. I've had more occasions than I'd like to admit where I get home and realize a bag full of products I have PAID for was left at the store. Anyway, we check out and as we're leaving I see at Customer Service a BOTTLE sitting on the counter. YIPEE!! Praise be to the shopper who took the time to turn in a bottle. However, as I claim which is rightfully ours, I notice Wyatt's hair. Interesting, considering I shouldn't be able to see his hair, since his hat should be covering it! "Where's your hat?" The reply is a very casual, "Um, I don't know. It's lost." Incidentally, searching the vault of my memory the last time I can truly recall seeing the red cap was the same area I had last remembered seeing the bottle. (Beware: Possible Bermuda Triangle located in the "Home" department at Wal-Mart. Specifically the towel aisle.) SIGH. This was a cute hat--one that I even got on SALE for a killer deal at The Children's Place. I loved that hat. Since I'm already at customer service, I ask them about the hat. Not seen it. I leave my name and # in case it is found (which proves NOT to be helpful, as I never get that blessed phonecall). So, once again, I lug my two kids and $127-worth of groceries back to the klepto-aisle. Nope, not there. Now I am wearily pushing my over-filled cart, my soggy-diaper baby, and my heart-broken 3-year old back to the van, who has just truly realized the consequences of losing his favorite hat.

Doesn't it wear you out just reading about a trip to Wal-Mart?

#2. Yesterday morning, like every other morning, Wyatt insisted on "picking out his cereal"--as if we have so many boxes to choose from. This particular day he chose the box of corn flakes that was too tall for the shelf, so I had laid it on it's side. Because it was picked up at a weird angle, he accidentally held it upside down. The top flaps opened, as well as the plastic bag opening (of course, the plastic only remains partially close together when you are trying to pour and nothing is really coming out). Corn flakes EVERYWHERE. The entire contents of the box are now on my pantry and kitchen floor. I couldn't help myself. I busted up laughing. When he saw he had no need to fear me (this time...ha ha), he started chuckling himself and then gave a sincere, NON-PROMPTED, apology. It went something like this...he looked down, shook his head, and smacked his forhead with his palm. "Oh, my goodness. I am so so so sorry, Mommy!" Followed by another cute Wyatt chuckle. Good times at the Taft house! I took a picture. When I can figure it out, I will post it on here.

#3. Surprise, surprise, another Wal-Mart story. You know those moments when you think you should do something, but don't, and then seconds later you realize you totally should have listened to yourself??? Today I was at Wal-Mart (again). We'd been there over an hour. Wyatt had been extremely good, as had Carson. I was down the bread aisle, which always gives me hope because that means I am almost back to the check-out stands!!!! A few aisle back, Wyatt had asked if he could play with a plastic ring of beads I'd pulled out of my purse for Carson to chew on. "Sure," I say. Now that we are in the bread aisle, I notice Wyatt is no longer playing with them. "Where is the toy?" I ask. "I don't know," he says casually. "It must be lost." Had we been in the Home Department, I may have seriously began to have my suspicions about Wal-Mart. But so far my suspicions are reserved for ShopKo, where for the last three (yes, 3!) visits Wyatt's pull-up has been on funny or crooked or something and he has peed on the floor! (No joke...my family can vouch that bad things happen to me and my children's diapers when I'm in ShopKo). OK...back from the tangent. So this time, I am too tired to even look for the toy. It was 97 cents, for crying out loud. My time & energy is worth more than the toy. As we are talking about it being lost, however, I have stopped the cart and am trying to make Carson a bottle--he'd had it with this shopping trip and wants out of here. I take the lid/nipple off the bottle full of water, and place the bottle on a box of kleenex that is sitting in the back of the cart, while I get the formula out of the diaper bag. For a split-second I think, "I ought to move that so it doesn't tip over." Then I say to myself smartly, "Nah...it looks pretty sturdy and the formula's right here." Yep, that's when Carson looks behind him and as he tries to grab it knocks it over and spills water all over our groceries. And to top it all off he is now angry at MOM because he no longer has a bottle to drink! When I get to the check out, the lady looks at me funny because most of the water landed on a bunch of medicine boxes I'd bought (a box of Airbourne Tablets, a box of Children's Sudafed Cold & Cough, a box of DayQuil, and a box of Nighttime Cough...any guesses on what we're trying to ward away at our house?) and now the boxes are all soggy and gross. "Lady," I want to say, "I don't really care as long as you can still scan them. Thatta girl--scan away, scan away!"
"The democracy will cease to exist when you TAKE AWAY from those who are willing to work AND GIVE to those who would not."



Thomas Jefferson