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Wednesday
Sep172008

The Day Dora Fell from the Sky

I won't tell you why exactly I have been on the mission (that's a story for another day), but lately I've been trying to find an old school Dora doll. It turns out that task is nowhere near as simple as it sounds. Just a short year ago, I know for a fact that Toys 'R Us and Target had dedicated long aisles to the Latina Whore. There were Legos and dolls and carriages and houses and figurines and clothes and every imaginable toy donning her football-shaped head.

Not any more.

I don't know how this miracle has come about, but Dora seems to be losing some of her grip on the retail universe. She has now been relegated to a meager four-foot wide display everywhere you go. That's approximately 58 feet less space than she used to have. Two years too late, if you ask me, but still, reason to celebrate!

Happy Dance! (Quick, somebody tell the Toddler Dora ain't cool anymore. Please?)

Anyway, I had all but given up on my old school Dora hunt. I had already drug Mr. Husband to at least three stores and he was very seriously questioning my sanity. Well, OK, so he's always questioning my sanity, but this time he was eying white coats in my size.

And then we went for a bike ride by The Beach where we happened upon this little scene:

A closer look:

I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING!

I swear on a pile of gummy worms, there was a Dora doll lying on the cement totally unattended. It looked as if she had gone for a swim, nearly drowned, been rescued, then left for dead.

I don't know which one of you made a Dora fall from the heavens right into my lap, but THANK YOU! I shall clean her and clothe her and give her a home. BWAHAHAHAHA!

Tuesday
Sep162008

About as Political as I Get Around Here

As Alexis and I were meandering our way to gymnastics tonight, she declared, "I see grapes!" I looked and looked and couldn't find grapes anywhere. I did, however, see some pine cones and realized that large pine cones hanging from a tree could most certainly be confused for grapes.

Always one to help her add to her vocabulary without telling her she's wrong, I said, "I see pine cones."

"No, they're grapes," she replied defensively. Then a few moments later she cheerily declared, "I see kine cones!" She said it as if it was the most original statement she has ever made.

I thought for a few moments and then realized something.

You know that thing that politicians do where they make a false statement, stand by that statement, then act like they never said it in the first place? That's TOTALLY a toddler move.

Politicians are nothing more than people who never grew up enough to be able to admit that what they said was wrong.

Sooooo, we're donating all September ad revenue to the Flight 93 Memorial Fund. Clickity clicks mean more money, so why not go take a peak under our covers?

Monday
Sep152008

Future Captain of the Litter Control Police

Mr. Husband and I have a running joke. Well, not so much a joke as a "He's Mean" sort of thing. He claims that I am a nag. He will add that I need to turn down the Nagometer and get off my Nagasawki. Naaaaaaaaaag, naaaaaaaaag, naaaaaaaaag (said in Motorcycle Shifting Voice). I have no idea what he is talking about.

I do, however, find extreme pride in the fact that Alexis has, at the tender age of 2 1/2, already dialed her Nagometer all the way up to 10 and aimed that sucker at Mr. Husband.

Yesterday we wandered through the drive-thru as Starbucks, as we are frequently wont to do on a Sunday afternoon. As the barista handed Mr. Husband my Grande Non-Fat Iced Caramel Macchiato out the window, he somehow didn't get a good enough grip on the sort of attached straw. It went tumbling to the ground. The barista handed Mr. Husband a new straw and we trudged along our merry way.

Except.

Apparently She Who Pretends Not to Hear Me has actually heard me utter the words "don't put your trash on the ground." She was APPALLED that Mr. Husband had the audacity to throw that straw on the ground and even MORE APPALLED that he didn't take two seconds to pick it up. She would. not. let. it. go.

As we drove down the highway, she could be heard lecturing him from the back. "Where's the paper?" "Throw that away!" "Daddy is bad." "Daddy, pick that paper up." Over and over and over and over she scolded him for his sloppy ways. He tried to appease her by apologizing, he tried to promise never to do it again, he tried everything.

I just laughed.

It's all good, just so long as she doesn't point the Nagometer at me.

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I've said it before, but I'll say it again: we're donating all September ad revenue to the Flight 93 Memorial Fund. Every click helps, so why not take a second and read all about the Uber Exclusive Pickle Club?