'Scuse Me, Mom.

A friend (and great photographer, blogger and angel food ice cream cake maker) came over a few weeks ago. I forgot to post these lovely little pics of Ford. At first I hated that the binkie is in the picture but you know what? It's where we're at right now. Hurray for the binkie. It gives me sanity. And hurrah for Hillary. Thanks for holding Ford during the dinner melee. It's obvious he never wanted to leave your shoulder.




I hear "scuse me, mom...I need to tell you something" about 900 times a day. Okay, I'm exaggerating. Maybe it's only 878 times. Either way, half of those times when I say "yes?" it's followed by, "um...um...(long, long pause as she tries to think of something new to ask me seeing that she forgot the original question) um.... Is Bob the tomato going to come to my birthday party?!" or some kind of madness like that. Tonight was different. Tonight was special. Tonight was classic. Grant and I were doing some dishes and we heard (as she's brushing her teeth but happens to be walking through the family room where an old David Letterman is on) "scuse me Mr. Man on the TV, I need to tell you something." Whether she was talking to David Letterman or Paul Rudd, I can't be sure but I'm dying to know what she wanted to ask 'em.

383. my great, big wooden butcher block cutting board
384. paying 1/3 the price for trash (plus new cans for free!)
385. smart puffs being a big hit