Haterade antidote

As an antidote to my last post, I bring to you the things that have made me smile and laugh today:

The school bus driver knows exactly who I am and will chat with me.

My toddler son thinks that my iPhone set to play music is the best thing EVER.

Said toddler son has some pretty sweet dance moves, too.  I’d better have the “use protection” talk early with BOTH of them.  (Young daughter appears to be taking after me.  I never had a “boys are gross” phase.)

I found out that the “peel garlic cloves by putting them in two metal bowls and shaking like a maniac” method works and amuses my children no end.

I also took an old standby hot dip recipe, plopped it on top of chicken and baked it and came out with a very tasty, happymaking dinner.  Probably caloric as hell, but sometimes it just doesn’t matter.

Found out the grocery store has Booberry, Count Chocula, and Frankenberry cereals in stock now and got two boxes.

Failed to stifle hilarity when my daughter took one look at Chocula and Frankenberry and burst into hysterical tears, insisting that it was monster food and anyone who ate it would turn into a monster.  I said okay fine, more for me.  She insisted that I would turn into a monster.  “Child… you’ve SEEN me before coffee.  There isn’t possibly a way this would make it worse, and there isn’t a monster in existence that will tangle with Mama.”  She didn’t believe it, so I distracted her by pointing out the strawberry nail polish worn by Frankenberry and the Count’s rabbit teeth.  Nobody told me having a five-year-old would involve this; I’m also planning on waiting until she’s sixteen, has friends over, and bringing up the entire episode.  In detail.

Managed to hit my grocery budget dead on… as in I was 71c under.  I’m good.

Housemate is sick, legitimately so.  He accepted a hot toddy, which I made with 100 proof apple brandy.  I may be able to keep him too tipsy to whine.

I have ginger beer and Maker’s Mark.  These go well together.

My daughter is going to look like a model from the mid-80s tomorrow with the clothes picked out and her favorite purple studded slouchy ankle boots.  I’m okay with this.


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