Today for lunch we had chicken burgers (the yummy breaded kind you find in the freezer section) on toasted grain buns with mayo, some melted marble cheese, and a huge pile of mixed greens and sprouts. They were really good.
I always ask for extra lettuce on my burgers (“no tomato, extra lettuce“). I could probably eat an entire side-salad-worth of lettuce on a burger. I almost did at lunch today.
It’s that time of year again, when our washer starts leaking water from some mystery location and our dryer starts banging like it’s a room at an hourly-rate-motel. I don’t think there’s warranty anymore either. They came and “fixed” those exact things last year.
I wonder when Dooce will stop doing monthly updates on her daughter. At what point does a person stop thinking about their child’s age in terms of months? For me it’s at about age 2. I assume that at some point we’ll read this on Dooce: “Month 150. Dear Leta, You got your first period this month…” Poor girl.
I really want to keep my kitchen clean but I just can’t. When my mother-in-law was here this summer she took care of the dishes. She spent a good 45 minutes in there every evening after supper. Is that what it takes to keep your kitchen clean? I don’t want to spend that much time in there, but I am excessively grumpy when my kitchen is dirty.
Last night’s thought on having one more baby: “Maybe”. Today’s thought on having one more baby: “Maybe not.”
Only three more loads of laundry to go. That dryer banging is stuck in my head like an annoying rhythm that makes me sing annoying songs in my head — like the other night when that “You know you really looooo–ve a woman” song was on in Sobey’s. I sang it all the way through the store and all the way home. I hate that song.
There. Now it’ll be stuck in your head all day, too.
Actually, it’s kind of fun to sing the third harmony part to it, which is what I’m doing right now… but I will not like this song…