A few things....

1. I got yelled at while working Friday night. I don't take getting yelled at well anytime....but it was 3 am. I really don't do well then. Not only was I yelled at, I was swore at and called names. Mmmm. Good times. All by a doctor. So, first things first, I want to publicly tell Dr. B: you can kiss my.....toe.

2. Secondly, and much more importantly, I have come to a decision. Vanilla is now, and forever will be, my scent. I have always loved it. I have also always thought it was an immature scent. Like something 13 year old love. So, I have waited. I am much more mature now, and guess what? I still love it. It's the scent that I buy for my wallflowers. And I will admit that when I make cookies, both my children and I stand there and smell the vanilla bottle. I always buy vanilla lotion. I smear it all over and then I smell myself all day long. When I am driving and I look over my shoulder to change lanes: "Mmm. dang that smells good." When I drop something and I end up very close to my own cleavage as I pick it up: "Mmmm. dandy smell." When I am clipping my toenails, and my chin is on my knee: "Delicious." There is nothing worse than someone who wears some strong horrible smell and applies it by the gallon. Their house, car, and everything else reeks of it. I am all about a more subtle smell. Last night Jack crawled in bed with me and said: "Mommy, you smell good." I asked what I smell like and he said "Like brown cookie juice." There you have it. I will forever more smell like brown cookie juice.

3. I mowed the lawn last night. It was a virtual grasshopper massacre. What is up with that? I was weed whacking them and mowing over them. Big Mama pushing a mower with a CLOUD of grasshoppers surrounding me. I would have yelled, but I thought it through before I did it. I am not a fan of grasshoppers. There was once a HUGE grasshopper stuck in the Bronco with me and Greg before we were married. It ended with me crying.....and wet pants. Yes, it was a bad situation.

4. Greg's foot is yucky. Fairly infected and we are looking at surgery later this week. Probably. Wasn't he is the hospital LAST year on my birthday? Oh well. Whatcha gonna do?