The Perfect Storm

Here's a few things you might not know about me:

1. I hate boiled okra.

2. I don't understand the whole Crocs phenomenon. They're ugly, ill-fitting, clunky, and also ugly. But, what about all those bright colors, you ask? Ugly. Even on cute little-kid feet? Ugly and sad. Like an ugly, sad little clown.

3. Photos of President Bush, especially the photos where he's smiling and waving, illicit a physical response in me. (I'm talking about a response so strong, so full of disgust and distaste, that I have to look away from the offending image or risk my feelings of intense hatred and anger toward him burning through my brain and disintegrating my retinas, rendering me blind and thus wasting the very useful laser eye-surgery I had last year.)

So, knowing these things, you can imagine how distraught I was when I stumbled across this gem of a photo:

I'll bet he just ate a big plate of boiled okra too!

And also, are those "Office of the President" socks? Doesn't that look like the logo that's on the carpet of the oval office?


The little theatre-goer leaving Annie with her souvenir backpack.

Overheard at Job Day

My Mom (an ER nurse who was visiting the 1st graders at Emily's school yesterday, and had just mentioned that in the summer they unfortunately see alot of kids in the ER who drown in swimming pools):

"So, what can you kids do to make sure that you don't drown in a swimming pool?"

Kid 1: "Wear a life jacket!"
Kid 2: "Learn to swim!"
Kid 3: "Wear floaties on your arms!"
Kid 4: "Wear a seat belt!"

I'm wondering if that kid blacked-out during the motorcycle cop's presentation?

The modern-day SoCal 4-year-old

"Mommy, can I wear a different dress?"

"But you've only worn that one for half the day. Let's not get another dress dirty."

"But mom, I spilled sushi (soosy) on this dress."

"Oh. Well, alright then."