Archive for December, 2010

cookie fun

Sprinkles, icing, bling!

Red hots to crack mama’s teeth.

Eat off floor for days.

Tried out a new recipe for the cookies this year, and they were great.  Soft cookies, icing that hardened but didn’t taste dreadful.  The kids added the coloring to the icing hence the, uh, bold shades.  w. and a friend showed restraint and even a hint of style while decorating.  e. went for the “More is more” approach.  Can’t lose either way I suppose.


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coming up roses

My salvation, my

squeaky friends.  So pink, so kind.

Not my grandma’s gloves.

I really love the line on the card about the gloves being “specifically designed to compliment your home decor.”  First up, are we looking for the word “complement” here?  And more importantly, in how many kitchens do pink and brown dishwashing gloves blend in with the decor?  Perhaps if my kitchen was done in a princess theme these gloves would be an asset.  Aside from that, they are merely amusing.

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“how are girls and boys different?”

asks my son today.

Coffee shop, students.  Answer:

“What do you think, son?”


Sitting at Beantraders today while little e. dances away upstairs, w. asks me how boys and girls are different.  Fair enough question, I suppose, from a child who informs me daily who he is going to marry at school.  I look around and see 15 disaffected Duke students plugged into their laptops, some with earbuds in, many without.  We have already been interrupting their public study hall with our “Book in a Bag” reading and backpack cleaning out.  I don’t feel like being their dinner time conversational fodder.  “You’ll never believe what I heard this mom saying to her kid today.  She was, like, explaining the anatomical differences between males and females RIGHT THERE IN THE COFFEE SHOP!  EWWWW!”

So I opted for the fall back parenting question technique, the tactic that has served me so well in the past in many stickier situations than this one.

“Well, sweetie, what differences have you noticed?”  Bear in mind, dear reader, that my son regularly takes baths with his sister.  Anything could have popped out.  His reply?  “Well, girls usually have longer heads like yours. (Thanks, sweetie).  And their hair must grow faster; that’s why it’s usually longer.”

Public conversation over.  Dignity intact.  Question answered.  We returned to our respective drinks and discussed how much more mud would have to be on his pants before we would call them “brown” instead of “gray.”

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who spilled the milk?

Funky kitchen smell.

From the new fridge?  Please, say no.

I need Supernose.

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