Bullets.

  • Too few hours of sleep and too many hours of cooking/dishes today. Left me feeling a little like the dishrag I kept slung over my shoulder most of the day.
  • Perhaps, finally, “Simply Lemonade” is the [expensive, non-shelf stable] alternative to my old, beloved, irreparably changed Vitamin Water. (Damn you, Glaceau. No, fuck you. That’s how much I loved a cold, old-formula bottle of Tropical Citrus that I can no longer enjoy because they went and changed the sugar to Stevia. Grody.)
  • Hay Day. It’s the stupidest time-suck ever. And I totally love it. There is something so insanely satisfying about harvesting wheat with the sickle. Why? Why do we love to swipe screens with our fingers in order to “milk” bloated, mooing cartoon cows?
  • Speaking of sickles — my raincoat makes me look like the Grim Reaper. Not necessarily what you want to see approaching the elementary school midday.
  • I continue to be shocked and awed by The Who’s Visual and Language Arts abilities. The kid’s penmanship is almost better than mine, he can read upside down (so we can see the pictures, obvs) and his block letters are the envy of all who see them.
  • For those playing along at home, the bacon-and-egg muffins were a flop; seems he’s not a fan of the baked egg texture. Homemade peanut butter granola bar seems to be a winner, but he’d enjoy more chocolate chips per square inch. Who the hell wouldn’t?
  • I’d be in bed right now if teleportation were a thing.
  • And now, for your perseverance and diligence, some photos:
    Hay Who. Your penmanship's kinda awesome.

    Hay Who. Your penmanship’s kinda awesome.

    Playing cashier at the school book fair, which opened today.

    Playing cashier at the school book fair, which opened today.

    Orange Jeans.

    Orange Jeans.

    Egg muffins. Delicious-looking, right? Whatever. I like them.

    Egg muffins. Delicious-looking, right? Whatever. I like them.

    Not enough chips. Apparently.

    Not enough chips. Apparently.

    All the moms and grandparents, looking jauntily and somewhat skeptically to the side, a la the opening credits of the Brady Bunch. Also: Hebrew. A la totally not anything even remotely related to the Brady Bunch.

    All the moms and grandparents, looking jauntily and somewhat skeptically to the side, a la the opening credits of the Brady Bunch. Also: Hebrew. A la totally not anything even remotely related to the Brady Bunch.

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One thought on “Bullets.

  1. A tiny drizzle back and forth on the granola bars of perhaps a chocolate or vanilla yogurt concoction, perhaps…

    can even be pencil thin but the little boy I watch won’t eat plain bars (he, too complains of not enough chocolate chips)

    so we have agreed upon a drizzle of something on top…works like a charm and he’s a really picky eater!

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