Hello Monday. It's been a while.

I have missed you, Monday. It has certainly not been me who has been cranky and crotchety, too much so to blog. But I'm here today. With bells on. Not really. We put all the bells away yesterday. Not really.

Moving on.

I got a new under-the-cabinet radio for Christmas. LOVE. IT. And thanks to my dear sweet hubby who finally installed it. It has been nice to be able to listen to music while slaving away in the kitchen. I have enjoyed all kinds of stations. Most recently it has been set on "80's, 90's and Today." You know the kind.

It was not my firstborn, George, who was doing some kind of dance moves reminiscent of break dancing. I did not wonder where in the heck he even saw that kind of stuff. And when he told me this was "guy's music" I did not nearly choke on my coffee when I realized that the song being played was "Talk Dirty to Me," by Poison.

Why yes, pal, it is. Because that would definitely fit daddy's tastes more than mine. Too much hairspray and spandex for me. I was more of a black with eyeliner kind of girl. Throw in some Chuck's and I was there! (too cute!)

Shortly after the break dancing incident, I did not find Baby Boots (who should be renamed Baby Holy Terror) sitting on top of my kitchen table chewing on a plastic tampon applicator. Yes, you read that right. No, I do not know where the rest of it went.

Koko recently told me she wanted to be a judge. I found this interesting and wondered if she even knew what a judge was. Naturally, I asked her what a judge does. She did not reply, "you know, they have one of those little hammers they wave around and stuff."

I get a little bored, despite the mounds of stuff that needs to be attended to, or the little monkeys  hanging off my apendages. We have a Bookmobile that visits our little town (conveniently parking just down from my house, which is a good reminder as I'm usually washing dishes when I hear the rumble and see it's lights while I'm washing dishes) but with the Christmas holidays and the weather we've had recently, she hasn't come. Desperate for something to read, I purchased a book at the dollar store. Set in London, about a stay-at-home-mom and all her escapades. The mom is horribly unorganized (in a way I could never be, seriously) and just when I thought of ditching the book, her happenchance mishaps had me nearly rolling on the floor. My monkeys did not look at me like I'd fallen off my tree branch - who is this lady who's laughing so hard? After a minute or two of my crazy outbursts, they were not laughing right along with me, nevermind not knowing about what.

At one point in reading this book, I did not have to take it to read sitting in the bathroom, to prevent any further accidents. mhm.

I can't say I'd recommend the book, but I haven't laughed that hard in a looooonnngg time. Nor have I been so happy to finish reading a book. Fa realz!

I came home from church yesterday to find that King Kong had taken my not-so-subtle suggestion and picked up the house. Not actually believing he would do it, I did not cry with relief as seeing one less thing on my plate for the day. He does not probably think his wife is a loon. About which I could care less because my living room was clean and he even scrubbed the toilet.

As for Cheeks, she is a never-ending amusement in our household, but one I sometimes have trouble finding humor in. Especially in the absent-minded accidents involving her face, the floor, and blood. But nevermind that. Lately she has been very interested in "ponytails" (otherwise known as barrettes), though they still only stay in about 10 mins tops. And I am not very excited about her upcoming third birthday, even though I don't have a darned thing planned. I'm just excited to see her grow. And last night at supper, she did not keep asking for more aweful. This is the only time I have found it amusing to have my homecooked meal (read full turkey dinner with homemade pie and everything) called aweful. aka olives.

Oh, and about the bells, it's not me who has yet to take down the Christmas tree that never even got decorated.

Now, go (read more fun not tales at MckMama's place) and prosper.