Visiting Friends

The most disturbing things I've seen this weekend, in no particular order:

1. Disposable antimicrobial walking pads on the floor through security at the airport, not because those are disturbing, no, just the opposite, but because when I asked the metal-detector-lady how often they actually changed them, she rolled her eyes and said she had no idea. Scale: moderately disturbing. Feet germs = gag.

2. A lady at the airport with a real fox stole, or mink, or chipmunk, or something, with two dead furry animals wrapped around her neck, each one chomping down on the other one's tail. Scale: mildly disturbing. While I'm no huge PETA advocate, I didn't need to see the freeze-dried feet. The chipmunks, OR my fellow passengers.

3. A lady brushing her teeth in the airport bathroom. Scale: Greatly disturbing. Just like the chipmunk feet, I also don't need to watch a complete stranger drool into a sink, ok?

4. The line of traffic waiting to enter the Lincoln Tunnel. Scale: Moderately disturbing to realize people drive in that kind of nightmare on a daily basis. Would have been "Greatly" disturbing, but thankfully, I did not need to use the restroom.

5. The movie "Babel". Scale: WTF? Have any of you actually *seen* it? And if so, can you explain it to me? Because I watched the entire thing, and am still not sure any of it made sense. Why didn't he just put her back on the damn bus? Why were the other tourists such wankers? Why did they just start shooting at those mountain boys? Why did I have to see the school girl's nekkidness so many times? Why did Satiago run the border? Why were the border police such assholes? And most of all, why, why, why, was the conversation that Amelia had on the phone with the dad the first time not the same conversation she had on the phone with the dad the second time, and for heaven's sakes, did she or didn't she take the kids to the wedding in Mexico and then wind up in the desert and were they ok or was she deported or was it all a dream??? Aaaagggghhhh! (This is why I will never be a movie critic --- I am obviously too dense and need a very clear-cut happily ever after, preferably wrapped up with a shiny bow.)

6. Scariest of all: That I made it through security at the airport with a screwdriver in my purse (unknowingly, I might add .... damn rental property hell, oh will I ever escape you?) and NO ONE CAUGHT IT. I flew not one, but two major airlines with that thing and only found it when I was digging in my purse for change. Scale: Very, very disturbing, especially if you are in charge of transit security.

JOY

Ya’ll, I FOUND IT!!! Hidden underneath a huge pile of clothes I needed to take to Goodwill! (Which was stacked on top of my treadmill that I haven’t used in six months … I have no idea why I have a weight problem) I was putting the clothes in bags to take to Goodwill later today and when I picked up the last shirt, THERE was my black and white floral notebook underneath!!

I feel like a crack addict must feel when they take that first hit on the bong (or pipe, or spoon, or whatever it is crack addicts use) and that sweet, sweet relief flows through their veins. Aaaaaahhhh. Reunited with my notebook; it’s a great feeling indeed. I haven’t been this happy since I found out the new Harry Potter movie is finally being released this summer.

So, depending on your perspective, donating to charity either is completely worthwhile (because I wouldn’t have found the notebook if I hadn’t packed up the clothes) or completely over-rated (because the notebook wouldn’t have gotten lost if I hadn’t put the clothes there to begin with) --- take your pick.

And since I TOTALLY agree with Mary in the comment section, about how it’s not the end of the world, and a good reminder that I’m really only a legend in my own mind, I leave you with a copy of the things, THE VERY IMPORTANT THINGS, that were in my notebook on my to-do list. So you can get a glimpse into my everyday life, and see why I am such a loser who wastes all kind of brain cells (of which I no longer have that many) on silly, silly things. But you know what? Even though they are silly things, having them in a silly list, in a silly notebook; having that notebook in my grubby little hands once more, makes me very, very happy.

*Library - Check out Island of the Blue Dolphin. (Kendrie’s gifted teacher is reading it to her class and a child dies in the book. Because of her personal situation, and having lost friends to cancer, I want to read the book myself and make sure I can handle any questions that might arise in an appropriate manner. And I think it goes without saying that all these words in the parentheses??? *THOSE* words are not on my list. Just my explanation to you.)

*Write Brayden and Kellen’s annual birthday letters.

*Pull credit reports.

*Start investigating laptops.

*Find Pioneer Days dress for Brayden.

*Download:
Prince,
“Where do you Go” by No Mercy
“Beat of My Heart” by Hilary Duff
“Uninvited” by Alanis Morrisette of City of Angels soundtrack
Goo Goo Dolls “Better Days”
Dance Version of “Crazy”
Adam Sandler “The Wedding Singer”
“The Rose” Bette Midler
“The Flame” Garth
Aerosmith “Dude Looks Like a Lady” (come on, how can you NOT love that song???)
The Smiths

*Check into The Mitford Series by Jan Karon

*Write Amy

*Contact Tech Support Computer Services at 478-xxx-0049 for help with laptop information.

*Call and check on summer tours. Make sure credit cards are updated.

*Book Seattle hotel.

*Take clothes to Goodwill (oh, the irony!)

*Recycle center

*Toys ‘R Us -birthdays Jacob and Ryan

*Proctor at school Apr 23-24

*Buy Mom's airline ticket for Blaine's next surgery

*Return Surprise Island to library

*Bank - Get quarters (to blatantly bribe the kids to not whine when we are driving on vacation next week)

Although I’m a little self-conscious to admit this, what with me not being Catholic and all, someone sent me an e-mail this morning and suggested I pray to the Saint of Lost Things about the notebook. I didn’t actually say a prayer, but when I read the e-mail, I substituted notebook in my mind ---- and it showed up! Maybe I need to check into this Catholicism thing more seriously --- they can find lost stuff, AND they have the green light to drink wine whenever they want. Nothing like those stuffy Baptists around here.

I’m so full of joy. I pink puffy heart my notebook. I think my blood pressure just went down ten points.

I Have Nothing .... To DO

I know I have mentioned to all of you in the past about my quirk for to-do lists. I actually carry a small notebook with me at all times, and keep a running list of things I need to get done, and cross out items after I accomplish them. I’m one of those people who will even write things down on the list after I do them, if they’re not already written, just for the pleasure of crossing them out.

The notebook contains not only things I need to do, but appointments I have, phone numbers I need, web sites I want to check out, items I need to buy, prescriptions to fill, grocery items we’re out of at the house, songs I want to download, blog ideas, scrapbook layout ideas, etc. This notebook, needless to say, is vital to my existence. Like Diet Dr. Pepper. Like air. Pretty much EVERYTHING is in it. It’s basically a poor man’s version of a Palm Pilot or Blackberry; phone book, address list, appointment schedule, to-do list, all rolled in to one. Usually it is in my purse, so I can grab it whenever inspiration strikes, or to make a reminder note, or to jot down a web address or billboard phone number, or whatever. Occasionally it is loose in my car, and fairly often I bring it inside to my computer. Regardless, it is always within arms’ reach, because it is like OXYGEN for me. Without it, I am but a lost soul, wandering the earth, with no idea what time I should be at the dentist, or what I need to purchase from Target, or what classroom donations the teachers want, or which phone calls need to be made the most urgently.

Without It? Lost. Soul.

Speaking of "lost", I lost my notebook this weekend.

Let me repeat that, in case the gravity of the situation isn’t quite clear:

I LOST MY NOTEBOOK, THE ONE WITH EVERYTHING IN IT. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

I am 99% certain I lost it at Kroger, because I had it when I went grocery shopping on Friday morning. I don’t use it as much on the weekends, so I didn’t notice it was missing until Monday afternoon. I remembered having it on the dog food aisle, and setting it down so I could pick up a case of Alpo with both hands. *squinching up my face, thinking really hard* That is my last memory of it.

I went back to Kroger first thing yesterday morning, and asked at customer service if anyone had turned it in. Naturally, that would have been too easy. No simple lost and found for me! So I went back to the dog food aisle and got down on my hands and knees and moved every single case of Alpo off the shelf and searched for it. I’m not even kidding. That’s my level of desperation -- germ phobe that I am, crawling around on the floor of a public supermarket. (Why couldn’t I have lost it in the Purell aisle???) I think I might have left it in my cart without realizing it. I would have gladly hand-searched every cart in that store, but I was afraid I would be arrested by management for harassment of the other shoppers.

We have turned the house upside down. I offered five bucks to whichever kid found it first. None of them found it, but Brayden found an old diary of hers, Kendrie found two matchbox cars under the sofa, Kellen found nothing because the lazy little shit said he didn’t need any money and he wasn’t looking, and Blaine found a disgusting, congealed, rancid sippy cup of milk behind Kendrie’s dresser. Blech. But no notebook.

Ya’ll, I’m not kidding. What am I supposed to do? I have no idea what I should be doing when, or where. Blaine, Mr. Always Practical, suggested I just get a new notebook from my stash (yes, I have a stash because I go through them every month or two), close my eyes, and try to mentally and visually recall what was on the old list. So I squinted my eyes shut, and tried to remember what was printed. *squinting, squinting*

Something about a book that I wanted to buy. And oranges. I think I needed to buy oranges.

That’s all I could come up with.

I’m pathetic.

Instead of hyperventilating every time I think about it, which is what I did much of the day yesterday, I’m trying to see this as a positive thing. It’s quite freeing, actually. All the restraints and pesky, obligatory to-do items are now gone. Vanished. I should feel liberated, right? Like those kids who burned things in the 1970's, only instead of draft cards and bras, I'm suddenly without order and function.

So what if one of my kids misses an orthodontist appointment, and I can’t rsvp to that birthday party because I’ve lost the number, and I’ve misplaced the list of every single song title I got from my girlfriends last weekend to download off iTunes. None of that really matters, right? Who needs the promotion code for my photo order? Who needs to remember that I'm a month behind on thank-you notes? Or that I promised to proctor tests at the school next month ... on what days .... ???

Blaine asked me if I wanted to go to lunch on Friday and I said, no, I had too much to do before we leave on our Spring Break Vacation on Saturday morning.** He asked, “Yeah? What all do you have to get done?” and it suddenly occurred to me. Nothing. I have nothing to DO. I’ll probably miss getting my hair cut and forget to go to the bank and not remember who I should paypal money to and never remember to make hotel reservations, but I am FREE and CLEAR for lunch on Friday! Whoo! I’m free!!

Egads, no I’m not. I’m all butt-clenched just thinking about it.

PS. If any of you find a black and white floral notebook, I swear I will pay you five dollars.

Comments on the comments:

Jadine, no it is not too late, and yes you should watch it. I used to be a fan of reality tv, until the mean-spirited, cold-hearted, backstabbing manipulating psychos of Survivor ruined it for me. What I love about DWTS is that there is no ruthless maneuvering to get oneself ahead of one’s opponent. The dancing is lovely to watch, and I SO enjoy the behind-the scenes footage of the stars trying to learn the dances. The recap show is WAY too long, but those television stations are doing their best to suck all the almighty advertising dollar into their wallets, I suppose. It is a family-friendly show, and you truly should watch it.

Although, was I the only person who lost their flipping cable signal RIGHT AT THE VERY MOMENT THEY WERE ANNOUNCING WHO WAS VOTED OFF????? I was all, “Oh, hell no, this isn’t happening!” but it WAS, and we wound up having to mute the television so we could read the verdict on the closed captioning, with no picture!! So I didn’t get to see the reactions and was totally bummed. (I take this way too seriously, don’t I?)

Kati, can I just say how much I adore you? Because you are a fabulous role model, and Kendrie loves you, and mostly because you don’t beat me about the head with your crutches when I continuously spell your name wrong.

Anonymous at the Gym -- ha! Listen to what happened to me this weekend (well, besides the fact I lost my bleeping NOTEBOOK but I think that topic has been covered) I took Kellen to a birthday party (one I was able to rsvp for back when I still had my notebook … oh, sorry, I just can’t let it go) and it was a group of ten or so rowdy boys, playing outside, being rambunctious, doing what boys do. They were tossing a football, sort of near my chair, and the grandmother hollered, loudly, in front of all the adults at the party, “You boys be careful and don’t bump into Kellen’s mother --- there’s two of them sitting there, and you need to watch out!” and at first I was like, “Two of them? Two what?” and then I realized she meant two people, as in she thought I was pregnant. (sigh) But at least it got the boys out of my way.

**Yes, we’re leaving on another vacation, but I have good news this time! Blaine is coming with me, which means I will have his laptop, so should have internet access the entire time. Not that you’ll want to hear every detail of our trip, but at least now it’s a possibility. Although, really, I can give you the summary now, and just save us both the trouble:

Vacation begins.
Kids fighting.
Mom pulling her hair out.
More fighting.
Even more fighting. Over every stupid thing under the sun you would think my children left their brains back at home.
Mom threatening to never take them on another vacation I SWEAR ON ALL THAT IS HOLY IF YOU DON'T STOP THAT ARGUING BACK THERE I WILL PULL THIS VAN OVER AND LEAVE YOU ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD WE ARE NEVER LEAVING THE HOUSE AGAIN!!!!!
Vacation ends.

Quirks. Idiosyncrasies.

Previous Song: TSO; A Final Dream
Current Song: It’s All About Me; Tokyo Joe

(That’s for you, Dawn!)

Well, as you all know, the usual m.o. around this web-blog is for me to talk about myself, endlessly, tirelessly, without ceasing, ad nauseam. After all, it’s all about me. Well, ok, it's really not. But for today I'm going to pretend that it is. And although I do have a tendency to babble on, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been tagged, as my friend Tammy did this week. So, to respond to Tammy’s Quirks and Idiosyncrasies tag, here we go:

1. You all know how I feel about bare feet. (shudder). I really don’t think I even need to go there.

1a. Interestingly, the bare feet of my own children don’t bother me too much. The thought of touching someone else’s bare foot makes me throw up a little bit in my mouth, but when my kids were younger, I used to smooch on their bare feet all the time. Obviously, it’s that maternal-survival-instinct kicking in because if we didn’t love our kids so damn much, bare feet and all, we’d just ship them off to sea to live with the pirates.

2. I’m pretty sure you also know how I feel about my Diet Dr. Pepper and my Styrofoam cups with rabbit pellet ice. It’s pretty much crossed the line from habit into sick, twisted obsession. One that I have no desire to change.

3. I MUST-- no ifs, ands, or buts -- sleep on the right hand side of the bed. It doesn’t matter how big the bed is or if that side of the bed is nearer the bedroom door or the bathroom door, I must be on the right hand side. It also it doesn’t matter if I am in the bed by myself or with Blaine or one of the kids, I will sleep on the right hand side, and 99 percent of the time I am sleeping on my right side with my face away from the person next to me because I can't stand anyone breathing in my air. It makes me severely claustrophobic.

3a. Speaking of claustrophobia, I also can’t wear any shirt or sweater that has a high neck, or a hood, because the hood will hang down my back and rise in the neck and I will feel as though I am choking. Nothing tight around my neck or near my face, at any time. Period.

4. I cannot go to bed without Chapstick or mentholatum on my lips. It is impossible for me to go to sleep if my lips are dry.

5. I always take the pickle and onions off my McDonalds hamburger before eating it. I don’t bother to special order because I’m scared the workers will spit on it, so I just scrap them off, oh-so-lady-like, onto the tray.

6. Although I don’t drink coffee, I do start every day with a tall glass of skim milk with two and one half spoonfuls of Nestle Quik in it. Not two, not three. Two and a half. That is an important and precise measurement and woe to the person in our household who uses the last bit of Nestle Quik without telling me.

7. Towels absolutely must be folded right side out and stored in the linen closet. If we had a linen closet, that is, and didn’t just shove the towels under the bathroom sink because there’s not one stinkin’ closet in this house not one is that asking so much because where am I supposed to keep towels and sheets and what man in his right mind designed such a crazy, inadequate floor plan anyway???? While I appreciate the help Blaine gives me around the house, it makes me insane if he does laundry because he folds the towels wrong-side out and you can see the tags. I despise that.

8. I am obsessed with list-making and make lists for everything. Grocery lists, dinner lists, chore lists, shopping lists, to-do lists. If I do something that is not on my list, I will write it on the list just for the pleasure of crossing it off the list. If I think I have lost my list, I hyperventilate until it is found.

9. People who tap, or jiggle, or bounce their feet on the floor, or click their pen or make funny noises with their mouth or whistle or any of the twelve thousand annoying little things that people can do make me crazy. Sit still and be quiet, for Pete's sake.

10. I have a tendency to over-do things. For example, this tag-list was supposed to stop at six.

And while normally it’s all about me (and you KNOW that it is!) tomorrow is all about Catie’s mom Jenny and Catie’s dad Tre’, as they welcome their new son or daughter into the world. The gamut of emotions they have gone through this past week boggles the mind, so please continue to keep them in your prayers a little longer.

Thanks!

So, now, it’s all about YOU. Tell me about your most bizarre or uptight quirk in the comment section.

BABY STEPS

Kendrie -- Day 221 OT

Blaine -- meh.

When your child is diagnosed with cancer, it goes without saying, your entire world is rocked. Families make unbelievable changes to accommodate the necessary treatment schedule; parents change jobs, quit jobs, move in with family, have family move in with them, move to another city, or state, or as in the case of our online friend Dani, another country with a whole ‘nother language. Truly, some of these lifestyle changes can be huge.

Some are not as big, but important in their own right. Even something as simple as a cold can be a big deal to a kid on chemo. Chicken pox? Huge deal. So you become (or at least *I* became) much more aware of the germs and viruses just floating around out there, waiting to pounce on these immuno-suppressed kids and wreak havoc. And so you make changes, some big and some small, to do anything in your power to keep your child healthy.

Like anything that you do for a long time, these lifestyle changes can become habit. And then permanent. Even now that Kendrie is off treatment, I am still on Purell Overdrive and will douse anyone and anything that comes within arms reach. I have no doubt my Purell fixation is a bona-fide, permanent lifestyle change. As is our swearing off hot-tubs for all eternity. According to our oncologist, they are forbidden for kids with ports, due to the high levels of bacteria in the water. Think about it …. warm, wet, moist …….. Ick! I get skeeved out just imagining it. And hey, if our oncologist, who said Kendrie could swim in any body of water she wanted during treatment, to include rivers and lakes and pools; the same oncologist who is so laid-back he makes Tommy Chong look like an ADHD patient, if THAT GUY says no hot tubs, then I say no hot tubs, either. Ever. Gross. Don’t even splash me with hot tub water or I hose myself down like that radioactive lady in Silkwood.

But a few of our lifestyle changes, those that we embraced at the beginning, have been relaxed now that she’s off-treatment. I no longer fanatically use anti-bacterial wipes to clean off shopping carts and restaurant tables and chairs (although I probably should). I no longer wipe down a hotel room upon first entering (again, probably should.) Used to, I wouldn’t let the kids eat chocolate chip cookie dough since it has raw eggs in it (Notice I say *the kids*? You better believe *I* still ate it, I just waited until they went to bed to do it!) Now, it’s ok for her to eat it …. Just like the salmonella risk posed by reptiles is ok, so she now chases frogs and turtles and tadpoles and lizards (and anything else she thinks she can catch) with glee. We outlawed public drinking fountains (why not just lick every kid in your school on the mouth?) and I’d prefer they STAY outlawed, but I have a sneaking suspicion the kids drink out of them when they know I’m not around.

So, by relaxing a few of these restrictions, I feel like we’re taking baby steps away from the world of childhood cancer. And here’s photographic evidence of my most recent baby step:




I bought dishtowels again!! Excitement, thy name is Kristie!!

Immediately after diagnosis, I threw out every dish towel we owned and we became an Official Paper Towel Family. Need to dry your hands? Grab a paper towel. Need to dry a dish? Or a cup? Or some fruit? Or a spill? An entire gallon of milk? Grab a paper towel. Or half a roll.

By my estimation, we have gone through approximately 990 rolls of paper towels since Kendrie was diagnosed. Enough to pay for a family weekend getaway, or perhaps put in that underground sprinkler system Blaine’s been wanting.

But you know what? Worth every penny, if it meant we weren’t spreading germs and bacteria all over the kitchen by using the same dish towel over and over. And sponges. Oh, gag, don’t even get me started on sponges.

So why go back to dish towels now? Well, we haven’t gone all the way back; we still use tons of paper towels. It just feels great to wash a clamshell of strawberries and only use one towel. Or cut up a veggie tray without going through eighty paper towels as I wash off the cutting board and knife between each item. Of course, now I’m obsessive about only using the dishtowel one time and then washing it, so any paper towel savings I expected to bank, I’ll now spend in detergent and water costs.

But that’s ok. It’s all about the baby steps, right? Just don’t ask me to go hot-tubbing.

OBSESSION

I’m not quite sure where they got it, but all three of my kids have very (EXTREMELY) obsessive personalities. Not like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, where they count things over and over or wash their hands a hundred times a day (shoot, I’d be happy if they’d spontaneously remember to wash their hands EVER!) They’re just obsessive, as evidenced by last week’s fish episode. What started out as a few simple goldfish in small glass bowls **would** have become a fish metropolis, had I let it. The wind had gone out of their sails a tad since the second fish bit the dust, but I’m worried a comeback is in order, after I managed to save the third fish this morning, who was limping and gasping feebly ‘round his bowl when we woke up. Fresh water, clean rocks, and a new water tablet, and he’s swimming merrily now. Great (roll-y eyes). I’m like a freakin’ fish whisperer. And my kids’ fascination is reneweth.

I’ve *known* my kids were this way for quite some time. Some of their recent obsessions include (but are not limited to): the guitars and guitar lessons Kellen and Kendrie both swear they want on a daily basis, never mind the fact neither of them have a musical bone in their bodies. The half-pipe Kellen is adamant Blaine either buys for him, or builds himself, here in our driveway. Kellen has decided he wants to compete in the X-Games when he’s older. I don’t know where he got this idea, since he has no idea what the X-Games even are, but he’s decided. BTW, for those of you wondering, professional quality half-pipes, available online, cost roughly $6000. Cheap-o versions are around $800. Kellen, for some reason, doesn’t understand why we’re not buying two and giving him his own skate-park here at the house. He swears he will wear a helmet. Um, yeah. Because *that’s* the reason we’re not rushing out to buy one.

The kids have all gone through these phases …. Barbies, karate classes, ceramic lessons, toy cars, etc, etc. It’s not that they’re greedy and demanding, it’s more that they get something in their head and just can’t let it go. Obsessive? Fanatical? You be the judge.

Take dirt bikes, for instance. Kellen’s cousins have dirt bikes, and he asked for one also. We said no, and he accepted it pretty gracefully, but he won’t quit talking about them and asking us questions: How fast can a dirt bike go? Which is faster, a dirt bike or a car? How old do you have to be to ride a dirt bike? Could I drive a dirt bike to school? Are there dirt bike X-games? How old do I have to be before I can buy my own dirt bike? Ad nauseum.

Another example involving their cousins happened when we went home earlier this summer, and my kids hung out with Landon and Dalton, ages 8 and 10, who are into cars. My kids? NOT into cars. Not until they heard Dalton and Landon discussing Mustangs and Trans-Ams and Corvettes. But mainly Mustangs. They’re all up in the Mustangs now.

So as we drive around town, my kids are obsessed with spotting cars that they recognize and shouting out the name. “Mustang!!” “PT Cruiser!!” “Hummer!!” like it’s some never-ending game of Punch Buggy. But Mustangs, oh boy, Mustangs are the manna of life, for Kellen, and he squeals with joy whenever he spots one. Then, since they don’t recognize the majority of cars on the road, they’ll ask me a thousand times a day, “Mom, what kind of car is that?” and after a while, I’m so worn down from trying to figure it out, I’ll just mumble, “Chevy Impala” and hope that’s right.

I might be in for a respite from the Mustangs and the fish, however, after yesterdays Cure Childhood Cancer’s Annual Picnic in Snellville, Georgia. I drove the kids up for a fun-filled afternoon, complete with lunch from Folk’s County Kitchen, carnival games, moonwalks, remote-control boats, clowns, arts and crafts, dunking booth, prizes, music, etc. We got to see lots of families that we’ve missed lately: Brandon’s family, Chandler’s family, Keegan’s family, Jacob’s family, just to name a few. So we all had a good time, getting to visit and play games ……… but one of the games? Something where you roll dice, and depending on what you roll, you win “X” number of baseball cards. Kellen, somehow, rolled the magic number and walked away with six or seven big packs of baseball cards, the examining and organization of which has transported him to a new nirvana. Does he know anything about professional baseball, the players and their statistics? No. Does he have a favorite professional baseball team? Or player? No. Has he ever before, in any way, shape, or form, indicated an interest in collecting baseball cards? No. But now he wants to spend every dime he has saved up on baseball cards.

I mean, it just makes me crazy. Where do they GET such behavior? It makes me wonder……..

Oh wait! I almost forgot to tell you!! Did ya’ll hear about the new contest they have going on at Sonic? For every large and extra large drink you buy, you get to unwrap a straw, and if it’s a special striped straw, you win a prize …. money, gift cards, trips, and a Grand prize of $168,894.00, which is the purported number of drink combinations Sonic offers, although really, every one of them is meaningless to me since I am still in love with my plain, ordinary, un-combinationed Diet Dr. Pepper. But that’s not the point. The point is, I am TOTALLY going to win this!! I stop at Sonic, normally, once a day, sometimes even twice. So if I double my efforts I could conceivably visit Sonic several hundred times between now and the end of the contest!!! Plus, PLUS! Get to enjoy all that syrupy goodness in the meantime! It’s a win-win situation!!

Now, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah, my kids and their obsessive behavior. I just wish I knew where they got it.

PS. Mrs. Jan and Mrs. SueEllen, thank you so much for the donations to Caringbridge in honor of Kendrie, in Dad's memory. I'm so thankful that this service exists, and appreciate you helping them!\