Sharing is Dumb, Actually

T-ball season started today, which can we pause for a second and gag over how ridiculously adorable little kids are playing t-ball? I mean, OMG. I didn't think Mila could get cuter, but then she put on a baseball hat and matching t-shirt and I was done. DONE.

So adorable.

(Sorry, there is to be no photo of said cuteness because her t-ball look very specifically calls out a detail that doesn't exist on the internet. So.) (How vague was that? HA!)

T-ball, of course, starts at a time that is unreasonable because all little kids sports occur when I should be at work. Whatever, though. Joke's on t-ball because I've got Alexis' track practice ending when I should definitely be at work, so I'm already jumping through hoops to make it all work. T-ball is no big thing when I've got track to contend with. WATCH ME BALANCE THE PLATES. I GOT THIS.

Anyway, it starts stupid early, which means there's no feeding anybody dinner on time, so I stopped along the way to pick up snacks. It's not my first rodeo, so I know a 4-year old cannot possibly be expected to go an entire hour without food. Mila picked out cookies for her snack and I, like the mature adult I am, picked out Caramel M&Ms. A shareable size bag of them, at that. Because ADULT. We were in the car snacking our snacks as we drove to t-ball.

"Can I have some M&Ms?" Mila asked.

"No, I'm not nice enough to share," I replied. I was serious. You pick cookies, you eat cookies. Besides, they were Caramel M&Ms. I don't care if "shareable" is on the bag, they're not. It's a law somewhere that you have to eat the entire package all by yourself.

"Mom, sharing is caring. Don't you care about me?" Mila continued. Take a moment to bask in the glory of the passive-aggressiveness that she has displayed at the age of four. It's really impressive.

I am very well-versed at ignoring passive-aggressive. "I care enough to not give you candy you don't need, Mila." See what I did there? I WIN AT THIS GAME.

"Alexis shares with me. She's really nice," Mila continued.

"That's very nice of Alexis to share," I replied. I STILL WIN AT THIS GAME.

We continued back and forth for a few minutes, which happened to be juuuuust long enough for me to finish eating the entire bag of candy. Whoops! I reported the event to Mila.

"I've very disappointed in you, mom," she scolded.

I still have no regrets, except that I gave Mila practice at arguing her way into something. We're all in trouble if she gets better at it.

Strawberry Poppy Seed Salad

I'm on a salad kick. I know it's weird, but it's true. It started because this friend visited me.

Hello, Strawberry Poppy Seed Salad. Actually, it's more than "a salad." It's ... incredibly good.

You start with a bag of spring mix, or if you are a giant sissy like me and don't like bitter lettuce, you can substitute for whatever sort of salad mix you like. I am boring and went with Romaine.

Then you throw some mandarin oranges, sliced strawberries, chopped red onions, chopped pecans, and craisins on top.

Mix it up, and you're done. Except for one part, that is. The dressing. Honestly, this salad is pretty good without dressing (As in NONE. Zero. Zip. Zilch dressing.), but it's other-worldly if you use Marzetti Poppyseed dressing.

And now it's perfect.

Strawberry Poppy Seed Salad

1--10 oz bag of spring mix
1 can mandarin oranges, drained
1/2 cup strawberries, sliced
1/4 red onion, chopped
1/4 cup chopped pecans
1/4 cup craisins
Marzetti Poppyseed Dressing

1. Find a big bowl.

2. Throw the lettuce in it.

3. Throw the oranges, strawberries, red onion, pecans, and craisins in with the lettuce. Toss that salad.

4. Resist the urge to make the sort of joke a 16-year old boy would make.

5. Dress the salad however you want.

6. Enjoy!

Sweetness