The other day I was driving by myself. ::ahem:: I was in the car alone. ::ahem:: It was just me. No Scout. No kids. Period.
That never happens.
So I did what any adult that’s been singing “Sesame Street,” “Where Is Thumbkin?,” and “Old MacDonald” would do.
I blasted some Rage Against the Machine. And some Rob Zombie. And some punk music.
Who cares that it was from the late 90s?
Why? Because listening to that combination of music transports you back to the early 90s.
How do I know I traveled back in time?
Because I passed a billboard advertising that A Different World was on TV.
Some of you young people are saying, “What’s a billboard?” Some of you even younger people are asking, “What’s A Different World?
A TV show that was on in the late 80s and early 90s. Obviously, I traveled back in time because I don’t know why anyone would need a billboard for a TV show that’s been over for 20 years.
So to recap…
Listening to 90s Music = Time Travel.
Ozzy Pups never used to bark. At anyone. At anything (except the printer that one time).
Then, about two years ago, we moved. And the dog across the street barks every time someone walks by.
So does the dog next door. And the dog across the street and two houses up. So does the dog three houses up and the dog that lives behind us.
You get the point.
Now Ozzy barks when dogs walk by and almost every time someone comes to the door.
Which is awesome when I’m trying to get Scout to sleep.
Even awesomer now that Scout is down to one nap that just so happens to take place exactly when our mail person arrives. Nothing better than seeing your little one’s eyes flutter as you read them a story, and then BOOM! BARK! BARK! BARK!
Like I said, Awesome.
That leaves me with only one choice. To sacrifice the peanut butter….
Choosy Dogs Choose Jif
Scout looks absolutely nothing like me. She might have my hair, but Kiefer’s hair is darkish, too, so it’s hard to tell.
If I hadn’t been in labor with her for nearly 30 hours, I might question that she was actually my child.
But the other day, this happened:
And it reminded me of this:
Look familiar? Are you looking at my butt? Because that’s not what I meant. Scout’s wearing a diaper, so you can’t really compare our butts.
We both love giant beanbags!
You’re still looking at my butt, aren’t you?
At the grocery store, I saw an older gentleman loading his items onto the belt for the cashier. Why exactly did this catch my eye?
Because he unloaded about six boxes of Pop-Tarts from his cart.
Not one box. Not two boxes. Six boxes. At least. There may have been more. I didn’t want to
drool stare too long.
That will be me in 30 years. I hope.
Kiefer should count himself lucky that he found me before that elderly gentleman.
Speaking of Pop-Tarts…Scout’s birthday came and went. This is how we kicked it off: Birthday Cake Pop-Tarts.
Of course, we did cupcakes and frozen yogurt that weekend, too. More pics to come!