8-year-old cynic

I finished filling up the gas tank and got back in the van.

E: Mummy, while you were doing that, I saw a sign that said "Save the world with just one click. And I rolled my eyes."

Me: Oh, why?

E: Mummy, we're at a GAS STATION. Nothing here is going to help save the world.

Yeah! Science, b--ch!

(That title is for my Breaking Bad peeps.)

Driving down Commissioners yesterday, K and I were guessing what the future road project is going to be. I suggested that it could be a sewer replacement project.

K: That would be disgusting. I would hate to work on a sewer pipeline.

Me: Yes, me too. That's why, if people can do that job without gagging, we should be grateful that they're willing to do it. In fact, I remember reading somewhere that men tend to be less affected by bad smells than women.

K: That makes sense. Because Pop farts all the time, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

Whose legs are those?

I went clothes shopping yesterday - like, to an actual clothing store, not just picking something up at the grocery store/Costco - and I had the unfortunate experience of seeing my legs in the mirror under what has to be THE WORST change-room lighting I have ever seen.

I literally thought, "What the hell? Whose legs are those?"

I mean, I can accept the fact that they're whale belly white.

Perhaps even the fact that they have come to look more like prosciutto more and more every year.

But when I tried to make myself feel better by flexing my quads, and it made my knees look like they had a Herman Munster-esque furrowed brow...I became convinced that these were not actually my legs.

(Also, this is a pretty good approximation of the face I made.)

So, nice try, Smart Set! I'm onto you and your trick mirrors and horrifying lighting! (I won't even get into the fact that my upper arms looked like the surface of the moon in there.)

I don't want to brag

...but we totally got everyone fed, homework done, and out of the house in time to arrive EARLY for E's first indoor soccer game last night.

Arrived at 6:50, plenty of time to spare.

Unfortunately, it actually started at 6:00.

That's some A-1 parenting right there, people.

Catching Up

First of all, three days and counting for the crazy arm workout. My friend F (who sent me the link) suggested that I should be switching it up and doing the leg work out on alternate days, but that one involves a  chair, and all I have is an office chair, so it keeps swivelling away from me. Onward!

Now I'm just trying to remember any hilarity that may have cropped up in my absence. 

All I can think of is the fact that we were on our way out to a Good Friday service and K was freaking out about a perceived injustice - I think it was the fact that we said 'No, you can't take a book to church with you' - and her freak out culminated with: "This is the WORST. DAY. EVER."

And I had to point out that we were on our way to a GOOD FRIDAY service, and I could think of at least one person who had ever had a worse day than her.

Does this count as a habit now?

Hot damn, that's two days of coming home at lunch and doing this ridiculously hypnotic arm workout.

If I keep this up, I'll have Angela Bassett arms in no time.

Or the arms of those inflatable things that you see at grand openings and liquidation sales.

Holy cow!

I totally fell off the blogging wagon (blagon?) there!

In much the same way as I have fallen off the 'getting up early and working out' wagon. Seriously, I don't even go to bed wearing my workout clothes anymore! (Probably the only ones happy about this development are my boobs, thankful for a few hours of freedom.)

But today I have a renewed sense of purpose.

I realized that I have lots of energy halfway through the day, so I am actually typing this while at home on my lunch hour -- after having done this ridiculously hypnotic arm workout video:

Special thanks to my friend F for giving me the heads up on this one. You just stand around flapping and flailing and twisting and contorting and then suddenly you've done a 10 minute arm workout. Brilliant!

So now I'm heading back to work with a spring in my step and a kink in both my shoulders!

If I can just get out of the house without stopping at the Easter candy bowl first, I will consider this a completely successful mission.

(And probably even if I do stop there. Come on people, we're talking about Cadbury Mini Eggs here. Who among us can resist?)