More Monday Miscellaney



lolcats - icanhascheezburger.com

It's Monday, and I've got "It's Friday, I'm in Love," on the brain.  I guess this means it's time for more Monday Miscellaney.  Lucky you!

• There's nothing like your pre-teen telling you the computer keyboard is frozen to start your day off right.  After a change of batteries, some messing around with clicking this button or that, running the virus scan and restarting the computer, the keyboard works again. Whew. Double whew. I'd be lost without the home computer.
• I'm thinking Halloween is my favorite holiday, hands-down.  I mentioned to a relative last night that "We're getting ready for Halloween, here," and got the response, "WHAT? It's only October 3!"  That gave me pause for all of five seconds.  I'll blame it on having kids, though I suspect that even without the kids, I'd have gotten out the pumpkins and skeletons anyhow.  At least I waited until October 2nd to do it.  I like the costumes, the free candy (though, at my age, the candy isn't free anymore), and the decorations.  It's rather low-pressure, unlike Christmas.
• It's weird to start seeing people you know in the obituary column who are your age.  This isn't a new phenomenon by any means, but it always takes one by surprise. 
• Why is it that during 40-degree weather, I still see people wearing flip flops? Seriously? I can't wait until snowfall.  Wonder how many will be losing toes to frostbite.
 



totalfilm.com

"MY TOES! MY TOES! Why didn't

I wear my fur-lined boots?"

• I feel privileged to help serve Mass at our local parish.  My family is on the schedule once a month.  For the last 6 weeks, however, we've not only served on our scheduled date and time, but also been pinch-hitting for others who don't bother to show up, let alone arrange for a substitute.  My husband has lately taken to asking me, "Are you scheduled to do anything, this time?" My response is usually, "No," which he quickly follows up with, "Yeah, until you get there."  Then he stifles snickers of "I told you so," when someone taps my shoulder and says, "Can you fill in, today?"  I really don't mind - except that I'm starting to feel resentful toward those who are finding it impossible to fulfill their commitment.  To them, I'd like to say, "You signed on for this.  It is one hour, one weekend, per month.  If you can't fulfill the duty, then ask to be taken off the schedule, and until that happens, find someone to fill in for you.  You aren't the only person who might like to sit with their family now and then during a church service.  It is extremely rude and inconsiderate of you to skip out when you know you're scheduled, and then when you do show up, it's within two minutes of start time - leaving everyone to wonder if you'll even be here.  You can do better than that!"
 



thegreenhead.com

peanut butter & jelly spreader

• Wow, but I'm tired of fundraisers.  Every year, our school does the same fundraiser. In my opinion, the catalog is full of stuff that could be purchased elsewhere, and for less. For example, those handy suction-cup containers you can stick in the shower - the catalog had them for $2.00 more than the local Meijer.  The chocolates look mouth wateringly delicious until you get them.  Then, you discover they're all about the size of a fifty-cent piece and 2/3 of the box is raised cardboard with the chocolates artfully spread on top of that to make the container look like it's brimming with sweetness.  And I really need to spend $7.50 on a "peanut butter & jelly spreader."  I'm thinking most of this stuff probably comes from the Lillian Vernon catalog to begin with.
• Excuses, excuses. I do feel badly, sometimes, when kids tell me they've lost an important piece of homework, or that they couldn't do the homework because they were being shuffled here and there, often at the parent's whim and will, and no one had time to sit down and help with the work.  Other times, it's generally a case of the kid being extremely disorganized and sitting in front of the computer or video games instead of prioritizing what really  needs to be done.
 



sweetcatastrophecakes.blogspot.com

• At what grade, in school, do you remember the teacher having to tell the class, "In order to get a birthday treat, you need to be seated at your desk and not swarming Alfred.  I expect to hear a 'thank you' to Alfred when he brings your treat to you."  Now, I'm not so old as to believe that my elementary school days are filled with rosy-cheeked, well-behaved children.  I'm sure we were little monsters at times - in fact, I know we were.  But - I seriously don't recall my teachers ever telling us to be seated at birthday treat time. I don't think most of us dared to swarm the birthday kid, hoping to pick over each decorated cupcake in hopes of getting the one with the most frosting.  Really, kids?  You're ten and eleven years old now. What happened to manners?
 



makeupadviceforum.com

• Of course, what can I expect when I see what's left in the staff room of the rolls from a meeting.  Someone took out the center part of the roll and left the rest in the box.  My reaction was laughing disbelief: This is something we'd do to each other, at home, I thought - recalling the days when my brothers would say, as one of us eyed that last piece of pie or cake, "That's mine - I spit on it."
• That lipstick you were so happy to find that cost $1.99?  It's going to go on your lips like $1.99, too.  Ever try to color your lips with crayon? Not even a Crayola, but one of those generic off-brand crayons? That's what $1.99 lipstick is like. Don't waste your money.  On the other hand, if the lipstick is $1.99 because it's been marked down from $12.00 or something, stock up.
• While I'm on the subject of lipstick, why is it when I look at the wide array of colors available I end up purchasing something nearly the same shade as what I have at home? I guess I'm just meant to wear one shade of lipstick.
• Where art thou, 2 yards of black lace? I've searched high and low for this lace now that I want it for a Halloween costume, and do you think I can find it?  Just my luck, I'll find it November 1st.

Thursday Miscellany

• When your kids are sick, are you the sympathetic mom who hovers just the right amount, always there to soothe a fevered brow, receiving thankful looks and wan smiles from your little patient?  Or do you turn into drill sergeant mom, who barks orders at the sick child to "DRINK THAT, OR ELSE!" and "WAKE UP! IT'S TIME FOR YOUR MEDICINE!"  Which mom are you, and why?




• You must remember the special supplies you used in school - those things that were only hauled out when you were learning a new skill that required a ruler, or a compass? Think of the things you'd do with that ruler.  Helicopters. Swords. All-purpose whacking sticks.  Markers were fun, too - who didn't stack them end-to-end to see if it would stand up in a sword fight before teacher turned around? Remember the big, pink erasers? They served better as pencil holders than erasers:  Dig that pencil tip into the eraser - there! You can always find your pencil, now.  What is the goofiest thing you ever used your school supplies for? The following comes to you courtesy of GraphJam:









• Mental Floss contains a host of articles to keep you procrastinating researching busy for a few hours.  Since Halloween is coming up, here are a few costumes from the article "Halloween Costumes to Inflict upon the Innocent."   What is your favorite Halloween costume from childhood?








Baby lobster: Who could resist?











Come on, we all know you blame your own farts
on the baby.



• Just in case you thought YOUR workplace was the only truly bizarre place to be, check this out:






"Meet Chuck, the Dark Lord of data entry."  Picture Itookatwork.com

And you thought YOU had the co-worker from hell?  P.S.  When your religious education director asks you what you like the kids to call you, "Spawn of Satan" is probably not the best answer.  Did you ever work with someone who truly gave you the willies?




• A final nod to Halloween, courtesy of GraphJam. How do you rate your Halloween candy? Or, rather, your kids' Halloween candy?  I know the chocolate always ranked first, and the Slo Pokes toward the bottom of the list, along with the ubiquitous hard lumps of Bazooka Gum, which was only closely preceded by DumDum Suckers.  Just in case your brain is still on sugar overload from last year's Halloween intake, here's a handy-dandy chart to help you organize which treats to pilfer from the children:



graphjams.com

Miscellaneous Monday

It's just another Miscellaneous Monday . . .

 



Damn you, farting
autocorrect

• If people hate the auto-correct function on their cell phones so much, why use it? I wonder if that function was created by people who have little knowlege of the American English Language. Judging from the auto-correct features I'm seeing . . . ? Naaaah. Whoever created auto-correct knows exactly just the right amount of the English language. Damn you, Autocorrect!



coolchaser.com

• Does anyone else wish that the makers of Crayola crayons would include more than one black crayon in each box? I find that the black crayon is one of the most used crayons in any box, and that the box of 8 crayons should be bumped up to 9 - just to include an extra black crayon. 



cwconnect.computerworld.com.br

• High-heeled shoes.  Oh my.  You know just how high the pumps are now that women are wearing, and for daily work wear, too, not just for bar-hopping.  I saw a woman tottering through our local Meijer store recently, leaning on her shopping cart in order to walk, her ankles bending at dangerous angles as she slowly made her way down the aisle.  Ladies, if the heels on your shoes are so high that you can't safely walk, then don't wear the freaking shoe. Good grief. Rather than serving to make you look sexy or sophisticated or stylish, you just look plain old ridiculous.  Even a little girl playing dress-up in mommy's closet has more fashion sense.  Either learn how to walk in your "walking on my tippiest tippy-toe toes shoes" or relegate them to the back of your closet for good.
•  

  

  fanlistings.org

  Oh Charlie, it was good to know you.  Irascible and handsome rake that you are, you're just too far over the edge right now.  "Let's talk about something exciting. Me," says Charlie. Well - sorry. You can join ranks with Mel Gibson, another former hottie who has gone over the edge.  Do you two share the same DNA? Adonis DNA, perhaps? A 12-step program is exactly what you need right now, though you may scoff.
• 

  

  signaramacolumbus.com

  Having recently become much more sensitive to the needs of those who use wheelchair or other equipment in their daily lives, I've been noticing more often the interesting uses of handicapped parking spaces.  Not every person parked in a handicapped space is visibily in need, and that's fine by me as long as that person is displaying the proper sign in or on their vehicle.  I really, REALLY hate seeing cars parked in handicapped spaces without the requisite rear-view tag, or license plate.  Seriously? If you people need help becoming handicapped so you can park up close to a building, then see me. I'm sure there's a crowbar somewhere that can crack a kneecap or two and help you out.  Oh. And parking in handicapped just to pick up your take-out order is UNACCEPTABLE.  You are not a rock star. Rock star parking doesn't exist for mere mortals (only for those with Adonis DNA) and your restaurant take-out order doesn't qualify you for even temporary handicapped parking.  Give it up, people.

Happy Monday, all!

http://icanhascheezburger.com/
Yup, Mondays can be like that.

Summer Pot Pourri: 2009

A summer flashback to July 30, 2009.  Fashions . . . if they can be called such . . . haven't changed much in the last ten years or so, and I would hazard that they've not improved, based on this writing.  

Summer has been here for several weeks now.  Any time of year is good for thoughts worthy of great pondering, but for some reason, this summer has really brought out the Big Thinks.

I'm not a big fan of the "If you've got it, flaunt it" philosophy, primarily because whether or not you've got "it" is such a difficult thing to pinpoint.  Beauty, as it should be, is in the eye of the beholder - and everyone has different standards of beauty.  This is a good thing.

That said, I must say that my standards of beauty do not include cuppeths that overfloweth on a daily basis in public places.  Perhaps it is the places I shop. Walmart has never been the harbinger of fashion based solely on those who shop there. I can say this, because I shop there now and then and am definitely not fashionable. 

Why is it though, whenever I'm at that particular place of business in the summer months, all I see are Titties on Parade?  Nearly every female shopper under the age of 50 is showing off The Girls in some ridiculously low-cut tank top.  On some women, regardless of breast size, the tank tops barely cover their chests. 

I don't care how firm The Girls are, I don't care how saggy The Girls are, nor how large or small or in-between.  Women, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON BEFORE YOU GO IN PUBLIC, PLEASE.

I felt sorely in need of antiseptic eye wash by the time I left the store.

On the topic of overwhelming cleavage, let's turn our attention to cleavage at the other end of the body.

I'll say it for a hundredth time:  butt cleavage is not attractive.  It's only cute on babies, and it happens on babies only because when they start to become ambulatory, their diapers tend to start sagging and show off those cute little baby buns.

If you're not diapered AND learning to walk AND under the age of three, knock it off with the butt cleavage already.  I don't care if you're in tip-top physical condition, I have no desire to see the crack of your ass every time you bend over, sit down, or stand up straight or whatever.  I don't care if you have a tattoo (tramp stamp?) that you want to show off.  I don't care if you want to show off the latest color of your "underwear" (whale tail?).  PULL UP YOUR DAMNED PANTS, PLEASE.

And parents, get your little girls some pants that cover their heinies, please. Your little girls are definitely jail bait until the age of 16 in most states, and pants that cover butt cleavage are definitely available if you look for them.  I know, because I've purchased them and my daughter wears them.  Try Kohl's, Sears/Land's End catalogs, and there are some WalMart brands that cover underage female tushies.

On that note, you might invest in suspenders for your young boys, too.  They really need to pull up their pants.

Before I close this section on fashion, or my own lack thereof seeing as the things I'm complaining about seem to be current fashion anymore, can we stop with the flip-flops, please? Back in the dinosaur age, when I was a kid, we called them "thongs." Now, however, "thongs" refer to that piece of dental floss that separates butt cheeks, which is supposed to double as underwear.  Anyway - can we quit wearing thongs to church and school, and in the workplace? 

I'm feeling rather harassed by the lawn chemical companies in our neighborhood. Every other day this spring there was a flier in my newspaper box or hanging from the mailbox or doorknob advertising the special deals from some lawn spraying company.  Each company claimed to maintain the lawns of all my neighbors, and would, for the low low price of something-99 help eradicate the weeds in my front yard with regular treatment.

I finally called the lawn company who left the most fliers at my house and demanded they remove me from the list.  They were instructed to think of my home as No. 12 Grimmald Place, London, England.  For those not in the know, this is the address of Sirius Black, of the Harry Potter novels - to Muggle eyes (humans with non-magical powers) the house did not exist - it was just an empty lot between two known addresses.

When distributing their notices, the lawn company was instructed to pretend my house did not exist. Pass me by completely.  I am too cheap, and too broke, to afford a lawn care service to do something I can get my husband to do for free:  take care of the weeds.  Not to mention every solicitor has ignored the signs posted on my door which read "NO SALES." 

Plus, during those really hot weeks we always get in Michigan, when my front lawn looks like a Triscuit, the weeds are the only greenery out there.  They're natural.  They're not overwhelming.  I pull them (yes, PULL them, by HAND) when I feel like it, and now and then they get the chemical treatment from hubby.  And frankly, if my  neighbors hate the sight of what they perceive to be my weed-infested lawn, then they can pay for the maintenance of it.

Overall, our neighborhood is a pretty quiet place.  On a clear day, we can hear the football team practice, the band playing during football season, other sporting events.  In the spring and through fall, we hear mowers regularly.  I hate hearing them at 9 at night, however.  I know people work some odd shifts, but the mowers I hear belong to those who are retired.  9 p.m. for lawn mowing? Come on, people.  You can do better than that.

Dogs bark, too.  There are two that live on the street behind us.  The dogs don't bark until someone mows their lawn, which in this neighborhood, is about every half hour.  One dog owner mowed her lawn in stops and starts for about three hours.  Mow ten minutes, stop for fifteen.  Mow ten minutes, stop for fifteen.  The dog barked incessantly.  I was ready to hop the fence, Superman style, and finish her lawn mowing duties for her.

It was only my inability to hop a chain link fence without catching my shorts that stopped me.

Others like to burn things.

I don't know who it is in the neighborhood, but it never fails that on the really nice days when one can open windows and enjoy a breeze, some nitwit has to start the burn barrel going.  Naturally, the wind blows my way and then my rooms start to smell like smoke.  I wish our area would enforce a burn time.  For instance, save the burning for the hours of 4 pm to 10 pm.  You  know, when certain retirees like to mow their lawns and make dogs bark.

Well, summer is still in full force here and we're all glad of it. Winters in Michigan are long, and soon enough we'll be in "pre-winter" (fall, to the non-Michiganders or Michiganians).  I'm contemplating donating suspenders to the elementary schools in my area for the start of the school year.  They might be needed more than pencils and crayons.  As for the offenders who show too much cleavage in any area? I may have to pay, on the sly, a few delinquents to carefully aim juicy spit wads. A few episodes of cleaning that off of your body might make a person think twice about what kind of skin they expose during the times they're in public.

Until then, I'm going to enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass and the green of my lawn weeds.

Domestic Haiku

It's that time of year when people get goofy.  Having been on Facebook for a while now, coming up with witty and clever things to post is a bit of a challenge. A Facebook friend suggested domestic haiku, and so the bunch of us were off and running. Or rather, typing.  Below are the contributions, in no particular order.  I took the liberty of deleting the author names.

One contributor suggested that those on Twitter could check out "momku," who is the queen of domestic Haiku.

For those interested in this form of poetry, the first line is composed of 5 syllables, the second line is 7 syllables, the third line is 5 syllables. 

The dog hair drifts like

Feathery messengers of

Untidy thinking. 

Yard work beckons me
Kudzu makes topiaries
I snooze anyway

chicken for dinner
no leftover surprise now
Papa John's Friday?

stinky cat nuggets

overcast wednesday is blah

my fucking laundry

Wash Fold dry, away
Dirty again, wash fold dry
Dirty, wash fold dry

Dog hair everywhere
Get out the Swifter
Dog hair everywhere

 my house was tidy
david and eva typhoon
it is clean no more...

Laundry is all done.
Dishes have been washed and dried.
Now Jenni must write.

I am on facebook
So not doing my housework
Come morn' this will suck

Who cleans the toilet.
I think it's not my job.
Looks so disgusting .

Procrastinator!
Economic stimulus ...
A job is a job.

Make the bed first light
Only to return at night
Make the bed again

Laundry hanging on the line
Undies happily flapping the in the breeze
She must use Cheer

a meal well planned
but not well executed
in the garbage disposal

Fuzzy-haired David

still-sleeping daughter Holly

don't want to wake up

A memory house
Hard parting with first true love
Floppy Snoopy mine

Menacing dirt leers
Evil dust bunnies attack
Must stop drinking gin

Chained to the vacuum
of unhinged melancholy
I regret my life

My desk, chair, and couch
Small islands amid the stacks

Of interview notes

March Miscellany: 2009

Apparently, I had a lot of random thoughts in March of 2009.  Here are a few more:  

So has everyone survived winter?  I know we're just rounding the mid-March point, and today is officially the first day of spring, but I thought I should ask.

Some parts of this state aren't finished with winter, yet.

Others have completely given up on winter wear, though, and I admit I'm one of them.  The winter coat was dry-cleaned recently, and I'm refusing to wear it until this coming October, when temperatures dip to freezing again.

In other mundane news, there are just a few things that have been on my mind lately, and I thought I'd share.

• First, it really annoys me to no end when people call and then don't identify themselves when they leave a message.  We have caller ID, and also an answering machine.   Far too often lately I get phone calls from people who just say, "Hey! It's me. Call ya later!"  I check the caller ID because I don't recognize the person's voice.  I don't recognize the phone number.  I ask myself, Who on earth was that?  Of course, the person never calls back, and anyone I see in subsequent days never says, "So, did you get my message?"  Please, people, when you leave a message for someone, leave your NAME.  If you have the phone number, obviously you are special in some way -- but I don't have automatic voice recognition.  Sometimes, you HAVE to leave your name at the beep.

• Another annoying  behavior occurs when people let their youngsters use the telephone, completely unsupervised.  Two words:  Please. Don't.  You might have the nicest, most wonderful child in the world -- but when that child gets to call someone and you aren't right there, only God knows what's going to get left on the answering machine by that child. 

• Cell phone users?  The list of annoyances is long.  For now, I'll stick  to those who use their cell phones in public places.  I can't tell you how many times I've been pushing that cart down the grocery aisle, and I hear someone talking.  I turn, because I don't want to be rude if someone is addressing me.  I realize whatever was said wasn't directed to me, and turn away -- but not before getting an indignant look from the person who spoke.  Why so indignant?  Because the person was on a cell phone, talking, and felt that I was intruding on their conversation.  Uh, people? If you're on a cell phone, in a public place, trying to have an intimate conversation, then it sure as Hades isn't my fault or problem if everything you say is overheard by other people.  Get over yourself.

• I try to be a polite person.  I really do, and kudos to my parents and other family members for trying to beat some common decency into me when I was a child.  If I'm entering a building, I'll hold the door for someone if they're entering closely behind me, regardless of their age.  Most people will nod their heads, smile, or say, "thank you."  Not one ungrateful teenaged boy, who sashayed through the open door to our local 7-11 as if it were his God-given right.  Acknowledge even with a mere glance the person holding the door? Meh.  It was beneath him.  It might just as well have been an automatic door, for all he was aware.  It was awfully tempting to try to close that door just enough to catch his heels so he'd trip and spill his super-sized fountain drink, but I'm attempting to be a polite person, so I restrained myself. 

• While I did have some common decency beaten into me, sometimes it fails in especially trying and frustrating situations.  Recently, I was trying to register online for a college class.  The process went smoothly until I clicked "submit."  For some reason, I couldn't register for the class I wanted.  I called the registrar's office, and explained the situation to a very nice woman named Irene, who answered the phone.  She explained that I was not flagged in the system as a student who would be ordinarily taking that particular class, and would need an advisor signature or instructor approval to take the course.  While I didn't raise my voice, my response was impatient.  I apologize, Irene, because certainly you don't make the rules at the college.  But it really bugs me when there is no indication in the course description that there are all of these requirements.

• So now I'm moving on to pay for a class that I'm really not wanting to take, but I have to take SOMETHING, so there ya go.  Now it's time to pay the piper.  This can also be done online, which is a handy thing for many people.  Does anyone out there remember the dark ages, when you stood in line for hours on end, clutching scads of paperwork in the hope you'd brought all the right things so when you got to the window you could pay and not have to lose your place in line because you forgot something critical and so had to drive home to get the forgotten something and then get back in line and wait two more hours? Ahh yes, the good old days!  Now you can make those long waits disappear by paying online.  I attempt to do this, using the payment system the college has contracted with. I enter all the pertinent data, click submit, and . . . voila!  Discover that the system does not accept Visa.  WTF?  I'm thinking.  For those of you who recall this is a family web site, "WTF" also means, "Wow, that's freaky."  I place yet another call to the college, and the polite young man who answers tells me I can pay in person, using cash, or by personal check, or cashier's check, or money order.  But they don't accept Visa.  I thanked him for making this such an easy transaction.  Again, it's not his fault someone came up with a ridiculous rule -- and I apologize. 

• Winter temperatures in Michigan often dip below 10 degrees Fahrenheit, and often below zero.  I often wonder what's wrong with the able-bodied, and supposedly mentally capable, adults who are carrying young children with no winter coats or hats on.  The adults are fully covered with all-purpose winter gear, but the kids are coatless and hatless.  WTF? Wow, that's freaky. I 'm not talking about kids who refuse to wear the winter coats because it's cooler to be freezing cold.  I'm talking about the kids who can barely put on their own winter gear without assistance of some kind.  Parents, smarten up.  The kids need to be covered.  Frostbite is not pretty, and even though it may be warm in the mall, it's a cold trip from the parked vehicle to the door. 

•  In today's U.S. mail, I received a card from . . . well, I'm not telling you the name of the company. I don't think they deserve any mention from me by name.  This company tells me they already know what my lawn needs for its first treatment, because they've already tested it.  So, uh, is this company telling me they trespassed?  And for the low, low, introductory price of $39.99, I can get this first treatment.  Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.  Anyone who reads this space regularly knows that I'm too cheap to pay any lawn service to come and spray chemicals on my lawn when I can get my husband to do it for free.  Besides, my lawn is natural. And if that includes a few dandelions to offend the neighborhood, then so be it. 

• It's also incredibly annoying when you're trapped in the pharmacy drive-thru.  One car ahead, one car behind.  The car ahead takes twenty minutes to complete their transaction.  At least, it was twenty minutes when I started counting.  As I pull ahead to finally pick up my prescriptions, the clerk apologizes for the delay.  "There were problems with the order," she explains.  I'm sympathetic.  These things happen.  "But," I said, "that customer did have time to drive away and pull up a few rows and find a parking place."  The clerk's jaw dropped about a foot at that news.  This sort of thing has happened before, back in the smaller home town of Tawas City.  One belligerant couple had pulled up into the pharmacy drive-thru to wait for the prescriptions to be filled.  The drive-thru is for drop offs and pick ups.  Apparently, the rules don't apply to them -- and so, because I had a very sick child who needed medicine yesterday, I had to park the car, take that sick child inside, and drop off the prescription.  All because some idiot decided the rules didn't apply to him.   Folks, if there's that big of a problem with your order and you're at the drive-thru, park the car, and GO INSIDE. 

• I'm continually amazed at the number of items that show up in our school's lost and found.  I joke with other adults in the building that I'm going to start shopping in the lost and found bin because there is some pretty nice stuff in there.  How is it that parents don't know their children are missing snowpants, backpacks, lunch boxes, expensive hooded sweatshirts, jeans, shoes, or t-shirts? 

• While we're on the subject of school, how is it that there is always a cadre of parents who believe their child is never to blame for anything?  Come on.  If your child is witnessed by several reliable adults doing something to another child, or breaking school rules, and is reprimanded for it, why is it always a conspiracy against your kid?  Family loyalty is to be commended, but sometimes, when you're wrong -- you're wrong. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.  And don't you think it sends the wrong message to your child when he is not held accountable for his actions?    As much as we all complain about our society, it really isn't to blame for everything. 

• I still haven't figured out why socks come in re-sealable packages, and why the packages always tout this as if it's some new and amazing claim:  "Now! In resealable packages!"  Whoopee.  Like I'm going to wear one pair of socks continually, and when they wear out, then take out another new pair?  Oh! I know!  What I'm going to do is take out a pair for myself, and then re-seal the package and give it to someone as a gift.  Uh huh.

Well, that's about all of the mindless musing I can come up with for now.  What are you wondering about, lately?