Hi, I'm twelvedaysold, not in prison.

Last night I had a talk with Jesse about something kind of important.

"Honey?"  I said, sweetly, but sternly.  "I feel like you're putting your homework on the back burner."

And then I literally slapped my knee and got kind of that giddy-in-your-chest-too-funny-of-a-joke-to-laugh-properly thing.

But on to more important things.

Honey?

I'm going to be honest and say it's gonna be kind of irregular at the twelvedaysold for a little while.  Life is getting cray-zay and the holidays aren't going to help.  Well, they are, because Christmas is awesome, but you understand.  It's about being bizzay, dawg.  Bledat.

Anyway, craft project!

It looks a little dull in this photo, so here's an angled shot so you can see how sparkly the letters actually were.

Jasmine is my cutie pie niece, and here's a picture of her absolutely in love with her new bedroom door sign.

Actually, I typed all this before her party, so I'm really going out on a limb.

Let's move forward.  Cinnabanana, doing his new laying down-squinty-eye thingy:

And, a while ago Jesse and I were arguing about something stupid (which is how it always is, am I right or am I right?) and Cinnamon was sitting on my legs.  He jumped off me and in the middle of Jesse and I arguing I was like GET THE CAMERA.  And here's the cuteness that ensued and what put whatever we were arguing about to rest.

See?  Pets are good for a marriage!

And I have a new follower, Giddy Fingers!  It's a comic blog, and right up my alley.  Giddy, I'm not sure why you started following me when I hadn't blogged for like 2 weeks, but I appreciate the pity follow.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, Jesse had already moved all the flammable papers from the stove and I had to reenact the photo.

Wordless Wednesday 2.0. Toddler and sixth grade. What happened to my eyebrows?

Lay off me, I'm starving

Weeks and weeks ago, I decided to pick up a couple cheeseburgers from Burgerville.  I love you, Burgerville!

I got these cheeseburgers because Jesse had asked me to pick him up from school that night.  If I don't eat when I'm hungry, I get what's known as Low-Blood-Sugar-Cranky-Butt-Disorder.  It's not pretty.  It wasn't so bad until after we got married.  Turns out when you know the guy is going to stick around, you don't hide the Cranky Butt as much.

Me, while dating:  "Oh no, I can wait another two hours to eat!  No problem!"  sucks in stomach 

Me, while married:  "Well, I SAID I was hungry half an hour ago, so yeah, I'm still hungry WOULD YOU PULL OVER."  Pretty.  Is what it's not.  For the sake of our marriage, I try to eat before I see him if I'm hungry.

Anyway.  Cheeseburgers.  I was eating the first one when I tasted something odd.  Not like, kitchen-cleaner-odd, just food-that-isn't-normally-in-a-burger-odd.  And I sat there for a good 30 seconds to a minute trying to figure out what the flavor was that I was tasting.

Celery, guys.  It was celery.  I can honestly say that with years of mastering the ability to pick green vegetables out of potato salad that I haven't had celery in probably a decade.

(Oh, and on another note?  Jesse had me eat a banana last weekend which was literally the first time I've eaten a banana in it's regular state in at least nine years.  And that is not an exaggeration.  There's a whole uninteresting story behind why I don't eat bananas, but this is not the time.)

So I decided to write that story on a blog I read, and I got such comments as:

"Celery on a burger?!?"

"Who puts CELERY on a hamburger?"

"Celery on a burger? That is just so wrong, I can't even comprehend it."


You may notice not one of those comments said anything about my ATROCIOUS DIET.  Hi, mom.


Okay, cat:

Aaaaand we have a new follower.  Sandra with Absolutely Narcissism!  Thank you for encouraging me to think the world needs my blog fodder.  Fodddd-eeeerrrrrrr.