The Toxic Housewife

http://www.etsy.com/shop/ficklepicklefun Ahhhh, the wonders of the Playdate.   They used to be an opportunity for me to hang out with other moms while our kids threw blocks and bit each other.   I didn’t think anything could top these Toddler Playdates.

Fickle Pickle Fun! I have taken to waving to homeless people.   Not a big, enthusiastic wave; really just one of those quick, I-acknowledge-your-presence waves.   I do this because, although I’ve luckily never known what it’s like to beg for money, I DO know how it feels to be sitting out on display, trying to sell your product while passersby pretend to be too busy to make eye-contact.

Because we love him, Bee and I recently said, “Sayonara, Sucker!” to Mr. C, dumped him at a friend's house, and flew to San Francisco for the weekend.

Our kitchen-update has proved to indeed be the saga I feared.  Yeah, yeah: those who know me best will immediately point out that I adore a good drama . . . but this one has been a little much for my marriage.

Because I have no deep thoughts for the week (surprise, surprise):

May I just start by pointing out that Bee was FINE yesterday?  I've been battling flu-like symptoms since Christmas, but Bee was fine.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/ficklepicklefun Ahh, another auspicious New Year’s.  I am starting it off in style: once-again finding myself hanging out at the local Burger King, blogging while Mr. C approaches stranger’s children to ask them to play (with the sob-story that “My parents won’t play with me”).  (Because I’m classy, that’s my cue to call out, “Shuddup and come eat yer chicken nuggets, Junior.”)