Spit it Out, Now!

In very important Starbucks news, they have added a new sugar-free flavor. Many of us have been loyally campaigning for this for some time now.

But the bad news is that it's gross. Sugar free Gingerbread. Blehhhhhhhhh...YUCK.

When the barista offered it to me before it had been added to the official menu I shook with joy. No Red Cup yet, but a new sugar-free flavor would do. This was my big moment!

But, NO. It was really terrible. I can't even describe the flavor but I would warn you against trying it. Toothpastey, minty, aftertasty...UGH. Couldn't hardly swallow!

Some are critical of the sugar free ordering in the first place. I admit, I don't do it because I adore the taste. If you've noticed my slight obsession with food, this is just another way of having something I love without having to add extra mileage to the weekly running total.

Since I have to constantly check myself to make sure my water intake is greater than my coffee intake, it's time to think about SUGAR FREE. (But not decaf...oh no. Not when I was pregnant, and most certainly NOT NOW.)

The sugar-free gingerbread was so bad that I asked (made) Holly go back up to the counter and get me a SF NF XH NW vanilla latte.

Aaaaaahhhhhh, much better.

At which point Mr. Barista conveniently mentioned that he didn't like it either.

I've Outsourced Myself

More than once this week, I opened my mouth to share some Must-Know news about our family and the listener stopped me before I had even told them the topic.

"Guess what?!" I always like to grab a friend's attention with a creative intro.

"I already read the blog."

"Buh...And....Uh" My mind quickly searches for any details I may have failed to blog about. But there are none.

You know, the intention of this whole Bloggy Wonderland was mostly for those far away. But being that I have fabulous friends, they all read along too, because they need assurance that I am the least sane among them, which I happily prove with each and every post.

"But there is so much more to me than the blog!" I want to shout. Ok, not really, but I must pretend.

So, here are some things I typically discuss with friends that I have left off the blog:

1. Everything I eat/ate/plan to eat. Even though I have shared a few recipes, it is the tip tip teeny weeny tip of my recipe iceberg. You have NO IDEA how much restraint I'm showing in this department. Thank you, Holy Spirit.

2. Every page of the Pottery Barn catalog.

3. And Pottery Barn Kids.

4. And Southern Living.

5. Hair...how it looks today, how it looked at its best, and my plans for its future. This is usually a lengthy conversation.

6. What Allison wore as host of "The Biggest Loser." Her wardrobe has been outstanding this season although the tanning is a little over the top.

7. Plans for Lilly's birthday party. It is really anti-climactic for all of my friends and their children because I involve them in the brainstorming, overly-involved crafts, and menu-planning. Last year, I even assigned them all actual jobs at the party. Luckily, they are gracious enough to show up and act excited.

8. The grand opening of the Grand Lux Cafe on November 30.

9. All the other restaurants I want to go to and what I will order.

10. Local newscasters and their personal lives, in which I am very interested.

11. The Food Network. Because, y'all, it is SO AMAZING. I am constantly searching for the perfect occasion to have a clambake and serve Ina's chocolate cake with REAL, OH GOSH IT'S REAL AND MAY SIMULATE HEAVEN buttercream frosting.

So now, in a horrible stroke of irony, I've just ruled out 11 more topics that will no longer catch you by surprise when I try to banter in Real Conversation about our fun lives.

DANG!

The internet can be so tricky sometimes.

We Are as Unqualified as Parents As You Feared

So we're all standing around the island last night making our own pizzas. YUM-O. If you must know, Brad and I turned it up one louder by making ours barbeque chicken pizzas with grilled onions...drool.

All four of us stood around the island to eat because when you are 3 and 11/12ths and 5 years-old, you LOVE to do that stuff. NO CHAIRS! NO TABLES! NO NAPKINS! No food has been thrown yet, but trust me, we could go Animal House in a heartbeat.

Anyway, we were halfway through eating the pizzas and suddenly(!) we were all digging through our Halloween candy bags again.

Why finish pizza when the ONLY reason we're eating it is to get to the candy? Hmmmm...

So in our attempt to make candy even unhealthier than it already is, the kids (ok, Brad and I) decided to make cookies. In lieu of chocolate chips, of course, would be a wide assortment of Halloween candy. Except Skittles because they are disgusting anyway, LET ALONE ruining cookies.

The kids got knives out and chopped up Reese's, Snickers, Twix, Butterfingers, Hershey's, M&Ms...and we dumped it all into the cookie dough batter. No dark chocolate was harmed because I already confiscated those for personal reasons. Eh-hem.

After trick-or-treating, Jackson and Lilly initially tried to "enjoy" lesser candies like Tootsie-Rolls and Dum-Dums. Brad and I quickly halted that nonsense and gave them a Halloween Candy for Dummies tutorial. Our little forum discussed the merits of size (fun size > mini size), caliber (chocolate+nuts=highest echelon), taste, and proper sorting techniques. At the end, we threw away all hard candy with foreign names--Super Natilla, anyone?--and Gummy Body Parts.

Anyway, aesthetically, the batter looked a little...much. BUT YUMMY. No doubt about that.

So I was going to conclude about our fun night involving wrestling and video games and actually eating the cookies, but sadly, that is not all to the story.

Jackson came down at 2 a.m. You know why.

Let's just say I'm so glad Brad was home because when the TOP AND BOTTOM bunks are covered in puke, it is definitely a two-man operation. He left no sheet, quilt, comforter, mattress (how?!) and pillowcase unchunked. Brad and I used our best nasally voices to avoid joining the fun. This went on about hourly through the night. And continues...

Fear not, I made him a luxurious bed next to the toilet with a soft green bath mat and his Buzz Lightyear blanket.

In our defense--and to the hypochondriac crowd, this may not matter--I think this is an actual stomach bug, not candy overload. Brad has been sick on the road all week...

I suppose we'll have pizza leftovers tomorrow. Or more cookies.

Thursday Night Tube

Favorite moments from The Office:

*The Finer Things Club

*Toby in the bow tie

*Oscar....just being....Oscar

*Dwight in the back seat. Enough. Said.

*Andy trying to bust into The Finer Things Club
("Back up plan: party planning committee. Safety, Kevin's band.")

*Michael writing the want-ad for a "new Stanley."

*Jim ruining FTC at the very end.

I could go on and on and on and on and on...

If you missed it, check the TiVo or Television Without Pity. If you've really missed it, as in all the episodes, may I suggest a membership to Netflix. Start at Season One and keeeeeep watching...

The Downside to Literacy

Jackson can read anything.

When I say "read" I don't mean barely sound out words. No, he can read multi-syllable dialogue that is way over his head.

This raises lots of questions for the 5 year-old mind.

For your pleasure:

"Mom, what is Tampax?"

"Why do American Troops kick a**?"

"Why do you buy fat-free homogenized milk?"

"What?! When are we moving to Dallas?"

"Mom, Halloween is a fun-filled day with chills and thrills."

Sigh...

Even More Proof

I will also report that I very responsibly took the kids to get flu shots this weekend. Before the Halloween festival. Stupid, stupid me.

It may sound cold and callous, but I started laughing when Jackson went into hysterics over his shot.

I bravely modeled "not crying" while I got mine. Then Lilly saw an eensy, weensy drop of blood and started screaming things like, "I don't want a flu shot! I AM GOING TO DIE!"

I then handed a trembling, teary Jackson a Green M&M of Bravery to chew while he got his shot. Clearly he didn't swallow it, because one second after he got pricked (and that's all it is, people!) that green M&M came flying out of his mouth in half-digested chunks. All over me.

Based on the amount of shrapnel, you'd think he swallowed an entire 2 pound bag.

The kids kept asking, "Why doesn't Daddy need a flu shot?" and I had to preserve his dignity and say something like, "He is so tough and his immune system is so strong that he doesn't need one." I cannot burst their bubble by telling them he doesn't believe in preventative care.

They will know soon enough.

Healthcare Coverage At its Best

In our family, Brad and I don't exactly have the best reputation for seeking out professional medical care every time we get a sniffle. (We might argue that others are hypochondriacs, but I will not name names).

To say the very least, we don't frequent the doctor and neither do the kids. I just figure most viruses will go away and we've been blessed to avoid most major bacterial maladies.

(There are isolated incidents of Hand-Foot-Mouth disease, Nursemaids Elbow, and New Years Eve Dehydration of 2006 but that is about it.)

I personally don't know of Brad going to the dentist since we've been married, but I stopped bugging him about it around 2002. He loves to brag about his cavity-free existence, but I assert that is highly debatable based on lack of professional evidence.

Last February in the midst of yet another gigantic blizzard, we both dragged our truck-just-backed-over-us achey bodies to whom we thought was our family doctor. They couldn't find our records because we realized we'd NEVER BEEN. Working in our favor was the fact that we were so blatantly sick that they just handed us Z-Packs and pushed us out the door before we contaminated their entire office.

I want concerned relatives to feel like our kids are in Good, Caring, Medically Overprotective Hands, so I'm going to recount this true and recent event where I voluntarily drove myself to the eye doctor!

Sunday night, I realized that I couldn't see very well. Actually, others have astutely pointed it out to me since I can't read clocks, see the football scores on TV, or accurately read highway signs until I have passed the exit. (Don't worry, I only drive in familiar neighborhoods. Right.)

The straw that broke the camel's back was when Brad pointed out to that I was holding the laptop in the air approximately three inches from my face. It does defeat the purpose of a laptop to hold it up high when it is ten times the size and weight of a Blackberry. Not that I can see that screen either...

So I got new glasses! My old ones broke over two years ago and I had yet to replace them. No, the frame didn't bend a little or lose a screw (I am not above repairing them with duct tape) but the glass completely cracked in two. (Much like our fireplace.)

I've had several appointments in the past few years to get an eye exam and new glasses, but things always came up. The kids had a school program, I couldn't find a babysitter, or someone had a subarachnoid brain hemorrhage that left me out of pocket for awhile.

Come to find out, I'M PRACTICALLY BLIND! Before you freak out, it's just my left eye and my depth perception is not affected when I drive Popeye-style. Right.

The best part of glasses (unlike all other medical procedures) is that you get to pick out cute, trendy glasses at the end! When I got to "pick out" the walking boot for the broken foot, the choices ranged from obscenely ugly to shameful.

But glasses offer so many great color and style options that I got giddy. There was shopping involved in a medical procedure.

That is right up my alley.

I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up

"Mommy, I am so sad we switched houses. This house doesn't have very many roly polies."

"Yes, but this house has lots of frogs."

"But I loved the roly polies. They were so cute and they were in the rocks and all over the place!"

"I know. But I am still glad we moved."

"Mommy, I am just SAD. You know, they were like family to me."

(Do I even NEED to mention that was Lilly?)

Identity Protection Program

I have this little site monitor called "Feedburner" that I set up so that rabid fans of Jackson and Lilly can be immediately notified any time new info about them is posted.

Feedburner does all kinds of other cool stuff, but truth be told, I really don't know what. I would explain what I don't understand, but it's super-techie stuff about feeds and site visits and who knows what.

I can barely work my own blog.

However, there is a section that tells me when people find the blog through a web search.

My intended audience is People Who Know Me--NOT STRANGERS. I know other bloggers who have changed their kids' names and never show pictures of their faces to shun creepy internet freaks. That would pretty much defeat my stated purpose of Long Distance Communication Involving Pictures of The Kids.

So...I was aimlessly clicking around on Feedburner, trying to make some semblance of meaning from all their over-my-head blogger jargon.

As best I can interpret, several people have found my site after googling "spanking", "spanking spoon", and (my favorite) "did the Osmonds spank their kids?" I was the EIGHTH hit on that one--just try it!!!

While I am free and easy to admit spanking takes place in our house, I DO NOT want to be known for this tactic. Especially since some states are thinking of OUTLAWING it.

So, if anyone asks, I am 5'4", with dark hair and changing the blog name to On the Lam.

Morning Message

Lilly Says II

Bedtime
"Mommy, I want to whisper something in your ear." (We are alone.)

"Yes, Lilly."

"I don't sleep at night." She waits for a reaction.

"Really," I say, "What do you do?"

"Play." she responds. I am not surprised.

The Truth Hurts
"Papa, why didn't you take a shower today?"

"I did take a shower, Lilly. What makes you think I didn't?"

"Your wrinkles are still on."

Prayers
Kneeling by Lilly's bed, I said "amen" to our nightly prayer and asked Lilly if she wanted to pray.

"No, Mom," she said, "I only pray on Fridays."

Prince Charming

Have you met him? I had a date with the sweetest 5 year-old boy EVER.


Being as we both like sporty things, we went on a joint bike ride/run along the Cherry Creek trail.

He rode, I ran.

He stopped to stuff leaves in his plastic bag and throw rocks in the creek. I stopped to gasp for air and give him high fives.

Have you seen how big he is? (But he still wears a Finding Nemo bike helmet.)

Have you heard him laugh? The smallest joke or silliest voice makes him grab his tummy and wobble on his bike with an infectious giggle.

Have you seen him read? Every sign along the way.

Jackson means, "God is gracious." Understatement of the year!

You Call That Parenting?

"Oh my gosh, it's 6:00 o'clock where did the LAST SIX HOURS go?"

My friend and I were having all these great conversations about deep topics. (I am serious. I think we only mentioned Pottery Barn once). We pondered marriage, communication, parenting, finances, the Holy Spirit, and many other things so philosophical I can barely recall them.

At one point, it did strike me as a little odd that she was giving the baby her THIRD bottle at my house that day. I was just thinking she was extra-hungry instead of realizing they could have DRIVEN TO OKLAHOMA in the amount of hours they were at our house.

Anyway, her husband called wondering where she was. "What do you mean? I'm at Nicole's," she said.

We both looked at the clock. OH. MY. GOSH.

I can't account for the hours between noon and six o'clock. There was lots of talking and noticably absent: OUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD.

As best as my foggy memory can recall, at around 1 p.m. we sent the four kids to the basement for a viewing of Star Wars. Come to find out in the Post Child-Neglect Interviews, they watched Star Wars, Strawberry Shortcake, and Mickey Mouse Christmas (TWICE).

Apparently, Jackson knows how to work the DVD player.

I have never witnessed a grander scattering of small, foil Hershey's kiss wrappers in my life than I saw today on the basement floor.

It's overdone, but:
5 hours
3 movies
100 Hershey kisses
5(!) hours of adult conversation: PRICELESS

Humble Hill

Daniel 4:37
Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble.

Lately, I've been praying a lot about pride and humility. Study Daniel for just a little while and you will be begging for every inch of pride to be brought to the surface and destroyed. Watching the king live like a wild animal was enough for me.

Yesterday while I was running, I thought a lot about this.

Our house is on a hill, and this being a hilly area, there is no such thing as "flat land." You are either running uphill or down--it's that simple. The first mile or so of each run is downhill. Cruising along, feeling good.

But somehow, on those downhill segments I always get a swell of pride. Even though I know I will again face the Uphill Monster of Death. My stride lengthens and I imagine the people passing me in their cars saying things like, "That girl is so incredibly fast. I bet we'll see her at the Olympic Trials." (I also envision them saying "girl" instead of "exhausted-looking, 30-something, mother of two.")

Then it's about 2 miles uphill. Pain, torture, begging for the hill to end. Major ouch.

On the looooong uphills, it's a different story. I hope passersby notice I am actually running. A wave of sympathy probably washes over them as they see my slow cadence and think, "Well, at least she's trying. Maybe she's injured. Should we call 9-1-1?"

My favorite segment to run is a stretch south of all the housing developments where its just me and some stray cows. The landscape is sloping downward and after challenging my lung capacity for miles, I finally let loose and really enjoy the run without much effort.

And there's the rub: Without much effort, it feels good and easy, but my sense of accomplishment is so minimal. Going downhill is refreshing, but not defining. It's relaxing, but not always memorable. It's easy to get lost in fantasies about the Olympics and running a 3 hour marathon and how my jeans will probably fall off me next time I try to put them on.

Then there's the tougher segments. These are times when I am in prayer (between gasps for precious oxygen) just to get up the dang hill! If I'm not focused on my goal, it's not happening. To keep my body in motion, to overcome the pain in my legs and lungs, takes concentrated effort. It takes a strength greater than my own. But when I reach the top, the sense of satisfaction is unsurpassed.

As you know, what goes down, must eventually go up. And that's where the reminder of pride comes in. Just when I feel so good, like running is so easy, like I am an athletic phenomenom, the uphill confronts me. My pride shatters, and not more than ten steps into the next mountain I am effectively humbled.

Sometimes God humbles us with hills in our lives. Sometimes he allows us to search out our pride and offer it up before he lays down the law. I would rather learn from King Neb and humble myself.

"God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble." I Peter 5:5

Reader Questions

Q: Are you going to change the title of your blog to "All About Pumpkins?"
A: No

Q: Which parts of your house haven't had warranty issues?
A: To our knowledge, the frame, but admittedly, it could be rotting this very second. Everything else (refrigerator, cooktop, furnaces, fireplaces, sewer pipes, washer/dryer hookups, windows, door locks, thermostat, siding leaks, garage door) has had issues. We've also had concrete re-poured in the basement and garage.

This is not a charming 1920's fixer upper.

Q: What do you mean by "minor explosion?"

Q: Can you post pictures of Lilly's French Bakery room?

A: The perfectionist in me is screaming, "It has not achieved show-home Architectural Digest quality yet!" The practical girl in me says, "Don't spend another dime on it!" However, I will have a photographer friend take some pictures that can hopefully do it justice.

Q: When will you blog more about running?

A: Soon. When someone invents a device that can take all of the very deep and exciting thoughts I have while running and transcribe them to the blog, I'll be in business.

If you want to buy me an iPhone until such mechanism is invented, I will graciously settle.

Q: Is your kitchen pink?

A: No. The color is a Sherwin-Williams tint called "Reddish." So yes.

Scarecrow Day

Since Jackson is off-track for three weeks (thanks to year-round school here in Colorado) the class had a Scarecrow Day last Friday. The kids dressed up as scarecrows, got their faces painted, bobbed for apples, and ate caramel corn.

I was decidedly Out-Mommed by certain ladies who thought to use duct tape to add raffia and straw to their kids' costumes. Some even used snow bibs to create overalls complete with scarecrowish patches, hay and straw hats.

Jackson, on the other hand, was wearing a shirt two sizes too small that I made fit by rolling up the sleeves. I talked him into wearing his jeans with holes under the guise of, "The crows nibbled at your knees!" That was my best shot at creativity.

Party Crasher and Jackson

Lilly was a fine junior assistant (under threat of death) and had the teacher saying ridiculous things like "She can just come in and be part of our class anytime she wants to." Right.

When it's her turn for these festivities, she will be dressed in full Scarecrow Regalia. Must be nice to be the second child.

Rut (I Mean Gut) Buster

Yesterday, Twinkies made their unhealthy (but trans-fat free!) debut in our house.

For a foodie, I can be especially low-brow from time to time. Like last night.

Bored with our usual dinner-with-friends routine, ("You bring the salad, we'll make dessert") we decided to stir the pot a little bit.

Broken into 4 teams of two, each group rolled the 24-sided Scattergories dice. Each team had a $10 budget to buy food for dinner starting with their letter.

It had to be readily edible (e.g. the "f" team couldn't buy flour because, well...) and have the designated letter in either the brand name or actual item.

So we descended on Super Target with 5 minutes and $10 each. You cannot buy quality or health in that time.

You can, however, carbo load and get fat. Which we did.

Here is what we bought:

B team: Bread, chef Boyardee ravioli, Baked Beans, Big pack mac & cheese

C team: Cheese sticks (mozzarella), Corn dogs

D team: DiGiornio pizza, Dora soup, Dark chocolate, Dibs (ice cream)

T team: Tostitos chips, Tostitos salsa, Twinkies

We chose not to take up valuable stomach real estate with whole grains or protein. But we did cover our fried food and sugar quotas through 2009.

WHITE, FLUFFY, & COLD

Oh boy. It is snowing. When I looked out the window this morning I let out an audible scream. Think shriek of horror, not squeal of delight.

Suddenly the beautiful, glorious golden fall has been hijacked by winter.

This presents a problem for our family on several levels. Yes, snow is pretty, but I am only able to joyfully interact with snow in the month of December. It is very bothersome to me at other times. Like in October.

1) We had a minor fireplace explosion last week. The fireplace people can't fix it until Novemeber. Grrrrrrreat.

My one consolation in snowy weather is sitting together around the fireplace with huge mugs of hot chocolate, watching football, and playing Corn Hole indoors. So technically, I guess we can still do that...but the fireplace won't be on and we'll have to watch out for shards of glass.

I suppose I need to explain our wacky fireplaces to those of you who live anywhere besides Metro Denver...it is against building code here to have a wood-burning fireplace. Apparently the climate is so dry that the fire hazard is off the charts. So they have these nice little self-contained units that you turn on with a light switch!

When we first moved here, it seemed so very wrong to take all romance and danger out of the equation with these self-contained units. No lumber, no matches, no stray sparks flying wildly into the living room. Bummer.

2) No coats. With the prospect of a move to warmer climates looming, we hadn't pulled the trigger on coats for the kids this year.

"Have them wear last year's," you might suggest. Jackson was on Year Three of his coat (size 4) and Lilly was on year 2 (size 2T). Their current clothing is in sizes 7 and 5T, so shimmying into their old outerwear isn't really possible.

Also, I sold them in a garage sale last spring.

3) Minimal heat. The upstairs furance is working (kids are warm!) The downstairs furnace is not (Brad and I are mostly numb). That means Brad will abandon his side of the bed and snuggle with me for warmth. Never mind that one of my love languages is Personal Space.

Thank goodness for our heated mattress pad--the most life-changing Christmas gift EVER. (Wait, maybe tied for 1st with TiVo).

I have been writing awhile now. It is still snowing. Not stopping. The lamp post in our front yard is giving me flashbacks of Narnia.

I'm so grateful it will all melt tomorrow.

Mount St. Caramel

Last night we made caramel corn for Jackson's Scarecrow Day. Family fun! Cooking together! Making memories!

Or, if you know us even a little bit: Total Disaster (but still funny).

The short story is that I decided to double the caramel corn recipe. Brad literally ran out of the kitchen when I announced my intentions because I have a LONG, BAD history of trying to mix higher math and cooking. (When I have a slow blogging day, I will recount the Amish Friendship Bread of 2000 incident.)

Everything was boiling nicely on the cooktop until I added the baking soda. Picture a very large, science project-esque volcanic eruption in a 2 quart saucepan. It was not projectile, but a slow, lava-like seepage.

"Brad, come in here quick!" There is urgency and terror in my voice.

"Do you want me to bring the camera for the blog?" he says very casually.

"NO. I want you to SAVE MY BRAND NEW COOKTOP!!" By now, my biceps are shaking because the caramel lava is rapidly expanding and I've already filled one saute pan.

According to the cooktop owner's manual...if so much as one granule of sugar melts on the cooktop that spot will be forever ruined. (note: I do not like this cooktop, but I am also not ready to buy a new one after 5 months).

This was not going to end well, so we all started laughing. The kids were howling, Brad was doing his silent, shaking laugh, and me and my very fatigued upper arms were hysterical. We filled 3 roasting pans, 1 saute pan, and covered 4 bags of popcorn with this concoction.

There was caramel everywhere. On my running shoes, pants, all over the counters, heating vent, and in our hair, faces, and sink.

But, PRAISE GOD, not a drop was on the cooktop.

I have spent over an hour cleaning caramel (which has similar adhesive qualities to Super Glue) off everything.

scrubbing...

...and more scrubbing

Epilogue:

All of the mothers in Jackson's class were very complimentary of the caramel corn and asked for the recipe.

The students, of course, would have been fine with CrackerJacks.

2 Peter 1:3-4
His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.

When I read these verses, it felt like a large, long, splintery, 2x4 smacked me across the head.

I've been in hand-to-hand combat with some tough truths in my life lately, which makes me want to get on internet dot com and research it to death. Then, I want to buy books to help me work through things. Then I want to talk about it with my friends. Then I want to curl up on the couch and cry. Google, sob, repeat.

Then, yesterday, God shined a splotlight on my foolish pattern. I took a figurative step back when I read those verses. Through HIS glory, HIS goodness, HIS divine power, he has given me EVERYTHING I need for life. I know godly input is invaluable, but clearly, I was putting my trust in that rather than His divine power. Hmmmm...

So now these verses are marinating in my heart and I am learning to rely on God's power to change me. This is not easy. I have control-freak tendencies. I want to change me. God startlingly and painfully brought to my attention that it really doesn't work that way.

Sometimes his goodness just knocks me over and I just had to share.

Also, I wanted to post something not relating to food. (More of that later because we had a medium-sized caramel corn eruption last night.)