BFFs

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As Jeff drove Bob's friend Brandon home from a play date, he listened to the conversation coming from the backseat.

"Brandon? You're my best friend, Brandon."

"You're my best friend too, Bob."

"I like you as much as Star Wars."

"Thanks Bob. You always tell funny jokes."

"I wouldn't ever want to hurt your feelings, Brandon."

"Bob, you should lean back in your booster seat because remember? I'm not a hugger."

"Oh yeah. Sorry, Brandon."

Guy Stuff

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"So, Mom? The girls at school all watch the Barbie movies and they talk about them all the time."

"Oh yeah?"

"And I don't like it."

"Why?"

"Barbie is a girl show. I don't want to talk about girl shows."

"Girl shows can be fun too."

"Well I don't like them. I like Max and Ruby."

"About the sweet bunnies? That's a boy show?"

"Max is a boy bunny. Guys are into that."

It's Still New

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"Good Morning, Mama."

"Hi, Bob."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Mom? Are you awake?"

"I am now, yes."

"Mom? Is it still year two-thousand and eleven?"

"It is."

"Mom?"

"Yep."

"Two-thousand and eleven is a lot."

Round One

You may recall The Star Wars Super Hut? We came home today to find that apparently our dog, Daisy, had gotten into some type of physical altercation with the previously-cube-shaped Super Hut. It also seems apparent that Daisy won this round.

Stay tuned.

Scents

Three days before Christmas the street in front of our house flooded. You can read more details about that sweet event here. Once the lake evaporated, we were left with 20 leaky sandbags and a damp station wagon interior.

When I opened the door to my car today, I was slapped with a wall of smell reminiscent of rotting fruit nestled in a pot of burning hair. I brought a strong cinnamon scented (unlit) votive candle into the car to temper the stench and the resulting aroma was a more festive, freshly baked aroma of dead elf.

I attempted to drive with the windows open to air it out but then it began raining again and adding moisture to the problem seemed like a bad idea. After awhile, I realized I could no longer smell the offensive scent. I wondered if the smell was really gone or if I had just become used to the odor or worse yet, the smell had permeated my clothing, my skin, my very soul.

At a stoplight on Olympic Boulevard, I rolled down the window again and stuck my head out into the damp night and took several deep breaths. I held my breath and quickly pulled my head back into the car and rolled up the window. I exhaled slowly and then began vigorously sniffing around the area of the front seat. I couldn't tell the fresh from the foul. My eyes drifted to the car idling on my left. The police officer in the passenger seat stared at me perhaps a beat too long and then nodded once. I smiled and then tried to look casual.

Real casual.

Smacksy Sunday Links

Maybe you don't like the idea of New Year's Resolutions? Perhaps you might want to pick a few of these 43 Ways to Simplify Your Life instead.

I am loving the blog Tomboy Style. I think it's more about
attitude than clothing.

My friend Ilene is doing this. Could you? I did it for a year once but it was for financial reasons...

Smacksy Saturday Photo: Forward

Launching into 2011... Happy New Year!