Day One

In a moment of weakness two days ago, I bought two Jillian Michaels work out DVDs.

In my defense, they were on sale for $5.99.

I was mentally preparing myself to embark upon, what she so quaintly calls the 30 DAY SHRED, when the damn things showed up yesterday! I really thought I was going to have at least the weekend to detox (2 week visit with mum = lots of wine) before starting...

But I figured this insane promptness on the part of Canada Post was a sign.

So I started this morning.

My early observations:

I was glad to find that she didn't yell at me. She seems to yell at people a lot on The Biggest Loser, and I wasn't convinced I would leap out of bed at 6:00 am just for the opportunity to have her yell at me.

I completed the work out less than 2 hours ago, and I'm already climbing the stairs like I'm 90 years old.

I totally felt like I was going to honk when it was done. Again: leaping out of bed every day for the opportunity to feel nauseous? We'll see ...

They sound nice though...

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror the other day, and two words immediately popped into my head:

"Zaftig."

"Rubenesque."

So that ain't good.

It's not just me

The other day the girls' babysitter asked if the kid playing soccer at the park was their cousin, Adrian.

K: "Well, if he's wearing Agent P shoes, it's him."

[Agent P is a character from a kids' show called Phineas & Ferb. When you're done reading this, go watch an episode. It's HILARIOUS.]

B, however, didn't quite hear that.

Her reply:

"Asian pee shoes??"

This makes no sense

I find it odd that my pickiest eater...the one who will shriek in agony if you put anything interesting or new in front of her...likes really odd flavour combinations.

Like tonight, when she was dipping her french fries in her cream soda. ("The salt is what really makes it taste good!")

I may have a problem

On my way home just now, I was congratulating myself for curbing my spending. I was amazed to realize that I hadn't stopped in at Superstore AT ALL this week to do any lunchtime shopping.

Then I realized that it's only Tuesday.

Also, speaking of Tuesday, I've had this song in my head all day:

Which is weird, because, y'know...it's TUESDAY. I really don't think my Tuesday night is going to be so rockin' that it's worthy of this theme song. It's not like I'm going to go to a outdoor concert and see Thor wailing away on the saxophone. Although that would be awesome.

But maybe it means that The Lost Boys will randomly be on TV tonight. Which would also be awesome.

That's a new one

It was very sweet that Sarah was measuring her love for me and said, "I love you through a black hole."

(Because black holes go on forever...)

It was unfortunate that I heard it as, "I love you through a butt hole."

P.U.

Whenever I see a hipster dude walking around in his Simon LeBon jazz shoes with no socks on, all I can think of is how wicked stinky his feet must be.

I feel sorry for girls who have only these dudes and the mini-bike goofs to choose from for their future spouses.

Um, no.

We returned from a week at the cottage today. (I missed you all terribly and thought of you often, but typing out blog entries on my phone is just not worth the aggravation...)

I had an overwhelming urge to go to Costco. And since I am weak-willed, I went.

Guess what they have at Costco?

CHRISTMAS STUFF.

I stood there with my mouth agape. AGAPE, I tell you!

On an unrelated note, I picked up two Christmas presents for DH today.

God, I'm suggestible.

Wow.

I'm sure there are times in my life when I feel less graceful than when I'm putting on a one piece bathing suit on a humid day...I just can't think of any right now.

Her mother's daughter

K ran past me the other night, holding a bottle of water:

"Mummy I'm going to go do a spit-take in the bathtub!!"

So she's definitely my daughter, because a) she's a fan of classic comedy, and b) she hates a mess.