Life happens.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

The only things scratched off my to do list for today I did yesterday in order to get ahead.  Sometimes, life just rolls that way, doesn’t it?  

My beloved Panthers look like they are going to break my heart on not just any given Sunday this fall and winter but quite possible on every given Sunday.  This wouldn’t hurt so bad if my Fantasy Football team wasn’t also fragile.  Oh who am I kidding, it would hurt just as bad.  Sunday football is my escape.  If my team loses, it sorta  just hurts my feelings.   

If you drench russet potatoes in olive oil and then put them on a baking sheet without edges, the oil rolls off the edges and drops down to the bottom of the oven where it hisses into smoke.  Enough smoke to set off the fire alarm again and again and again and force your family to eat outside.  This is simply an observation, not a comment on my cooking. 

You know you walked into the hair salon with particularly troubling hair if the salon owner at the salon you’ve been going to for years keeps stopping by your hair dresser’s station to tell her how fabulous the haircut is (and he’s never done that before).  

 Now that the baby sleeps better at night (just two wake-ups on average now, y’all), his naps stink and it’s hard to put him down.  It’s one or the other, isn’t it?

 A dog who plays hard outside on a humid 90 degree day smells like a teenage boy.  Even if she’s a  four year old four legged girl.

Baby has discovered that he can feed Lola from his perch at the table.  It has made him more popular with Lola (there was only way to go, though, and that was up).  It has not had the same effect on his father and me.