I like reading posts comprised of the random thought processes of others. Maybe that is because my brain seems to continuously inhabit a wide array of random thoughts at any given moment. Those posts speak deeply to me...well, at least they make me feel like I may indeed be a little more normal than most think. So here is my ode to all ye of like random minds...
I love Pringles. I eat them until there is a nice slick layer of fat film on the roof of my mouth and my lips are permanently shriveled from the insanely delicious salt that blankets the crisp chip. Sometimes I lick both sides and set it aside until the chip softens a little. Don't worry...this is not something I do in public. Certain actions are only meant for the privacy of your home. You probably don't want to see me eat a chocolate covered cherry either. And when I was little, I used to chew a bunch of saltine crackers and then mold the soggy mess into a nice ball...and then eat it again. Gross, I know. I am proud to say that I do not partake in this activity anymore, though I remember it with fondness. Its a wonder I found myself a husband.
In another neck of the woods, when the inscrucktions on the side of the bottle say that it is probably best to take the antibiotic with food, it is indeed probably best to take the antibiotic with food. And by food, it does not mean coffee. It will take a copious amount of Pringles to get the taste of regurgitated coffee out of your mouth.Did you know that allergy eyes could turn into bacterial pink eye? Who'da thunkit? Obviously not me, even after spending a few days wanting to manually pull out my eyeballs so I could scratch the inside of my eyelids. And waking up with my eyelashes matted shut. And looking quite like an interviewee on that show "Intervention", with horribly blood shot sclera and swollen purple bags under each eye. Bilateral pink eye. Yep, that kinda makes sense now.Tree pollen is my #1 nemesis these days. I currently loathe the mere mention of walking outside. The is a battle of epic proportions taking place in my nasal passages, and I'm not quite sure who is winning. It ain't purdy.
My darling son is growing teeny tiny freckles on his nose which, amazingly enough, make him even mo' cuter than he is already. I luves me some freckles. Especially on little boys. I count them when he sits in my lap and looks up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes. Some days I want to eat his face off. Its a disturbing reality.
The middleun, which is adorable in her own way as well and inhabits her own share of adorable freckles, has taken to the habit of lying lately. And she is mighty good at it...she flashes her precious little dimples our way and we instantly lose the scent of the ill-will happening. She's so good that we didn't even realize that she has been lying quite regularly until recently. About little things...stupid things...and some big things. This is new territory, as the oldest has never lied...like never ever. Or maybe I am a bit naive.
Abby, who is seriously lacking in most of the pictures these days, started spring soccer last week with our local soccer academy. Its quite entertaining watching her long, muscular legs run. Its a beautiful flowing motion of muscle and bone working together in a remarkable way...until she falls, which she does quite often. She's not the world's most graceful gazelle. But she is a purdy good soccer player. In her third season playing, I thought she had the game figured out pretty well until she complained when a player on the opposite team in a scrimmage started guarding her: "They were throwing the ball in and a girl from the blue team kept standing in front of me so I couldn't get it. I told her that she was cheating and couldn't do that and she said that she could. I was so frustrated with her. She just didn't know how to play." It was then that I enlightened our little soccer prodigy with a little known concept called "defense".
And this concludes the act of randomness that is currently flowing around my brain.