That’s listed as an ingredient on my office-stash jar of peanut butter. I’m guessing they meant Grapeseed oil.
The Bird Report
I usually end my posts with the Bird Report, but I have to tell you these two things because they are about to make my heart explode.
1. Bird said her first “perfect” word a couple of days ago. She’s been saying baby-words for a while, like “Dy-puh” and “Ah Duh” (Diaper and All Done), but this one was so perfect. She walked up to A. and said, very very carefully, “Bo-oK.” BOOK! Very clearly and exactly how grown-ups say it. Since that day she has been a little parrot with her baby-words, even repeating “Yuck!” when I said it about her diaper this morning. And “Yuck,” my friends, is dangerously close to a word I say an awful lot. Time to clean it up.
2. Bird pretends. Last night she had major fun times picking up invisible food out of her rocking chair and feeding it to Bear, who was tricked time after time but never gave up his enthusiasm for the invisible morsels. (Dignan did not wake up for his invisible morsels, and Thomas sniffed them and left the room, because he is an ungrateful bastard-cat. ) But the point is that my kid has a bona fide imagination. And so it begins with the imagining and I am so very excited about it.
Hey, That’s My Job
I had a fairly crappy home visit yesterday, two hours away in the middle of Bumfuck in the middle of the all-day pouring rain, blindly trusting my Google Map directions in unmarked-road territory.
The patient’s problems weren’t fixable, and I walked away with both of us wondering why I’d come in the first place. I visited the Bumfuck Goodwill (excellent home-made red corduroy jumper for Bird) and the Bumfuck Wendy’s (same as always, minus cheese mix-up). I saw a lot of Amish people. I saw a horse and buggy hitched up outside and AutoZone. Think about it.
I stopped into the TJ Maxx by my office on the way home, and walked directly to a pair of jeans that were the right size, the right color, and only $20 (vs. the suggested $98 price. I know.) The entire experience took all of fifteen minutes, and I truly felt that my feud with the jeans-shopping forces of the universe was over. I am wearing them today and I think they might be a little too low-rise, and that I may be muffin-topping and undies-exposing when I so much as lean forward. I am too old for this shit, but I will continue to wear these jeans.
I’m Just a Girl
I saw Gwen Stefani on SNL over the weekend. I know I’m neither hip nor cool, and I don’t konw anything about anything. But. It was like watching the Head Cheerleader’s act in the eighth-grade talent show, entitled “An Original Rap about Algebra and Hairspray.”
Maybe that isn’t what Gwen was rapping about, but it did involve the Goat Herder song from Sound of Music and whining in a terribly affected voice, and a team of plaid-clad Asian girls in wigs. This is a joke, right? It has to be a joke.