 Cheese-a-Holic | 16 July 2002 It's official. My daughter is obsessed with cheese. At first, I thought I could just say, "Oh she just likes cheese. That's normal." But not any more. Nope, she is an official cheese-a-holic. Yesterday, I decided I would clean the bathroom while she watched the Mows (Secret of NIMH) for the sixty-jillionth time. When I came back out, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a huge brick of cheese with several Lulu-sized bite marks up and down the sides just sitting there on the floor. It was one of those moments where I wanted to hide and pretend that nothing had happened. GUH!! At what age to children start to become normal? I know I never did anything like that when I was little. Sure, I may have sucked up a few socks with the hose attachment on our vacuum cleaner, but that was all in good fun. I'm sure even my dad got a chuckle out of that, sometime after he yelled at me and sent me to my room. There is nothing fun about little bite marks in your brick of cheese. I managed to get both Lauren and AJ to sleep at four in the afternoon, and laid down for a little snooze myself. I didn't wake up until two in the morning. Ray had come home from work by the time the kids got up, and took care of them while I got some much needed zzzzz's. Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep, so I went to Walmart and the grocery store. Shopping is so much better in the middle of the night. You don't have to deal with all those people. It sucked at Walmart though because they do all their stocking in the middle of the night, and you have to weave veerrry carefully through those big piles of boxes. But shopping at Walmart sucks anyway. Speaking of which: Damn you Walmart! Must you put the graham crackers, marshmallows, and Hershey bars right next to each other? I realize that it's a clever marketing ploy, but dammit! You have gotten me addicted to S'mores! I hadn't had one of those little devil snacks in years and you had remind me of how yummy they were by making a little S'mores rack right smack dab next to the chips! Further proof that Walmart is run by Satan. So today we're going to the beach. Ray worked on Sunday so we could have today off together, and yep, we're going to the beach. I packed us a kick-ass picnic: Tostitos and queso dip (a staple food in any good picnic), beef and swiss sandwiches, apples, yogurt, and brownies. I have to remind myself to bring along Lauren's shovel and pail so she and AJ can play in the sand. I must also remember to bring the sunscreen so I don't lobsterfy in the hot summer sun. Doesn't living by the ocean kick ass? Not that I live very close to the ocean, but it's only a half-hour drive away. It rules to be able to just toss a picnic basket in the trunk and drive to the beach. I love it! I plan to go every week until the end of the summer. My house is filthy. I desperately need a housekeeper. Any volunteers? It seems like no matter what I can't keep it clean. When the kids are awake, they cling to me and make it impossible to get anything done. When they're asleep, I'm so exhausted that I go to sleep too. Ray helps out a lot, but I can't trust him to do certain things, like the laundry or the dishes. He doesn't seem to get the concept of seperating the clothes before he washes them. I can't tell you how many things he's washed with our burgundy towels that have wound up pink. I tell him to just wash his clothes and not worry about mine or the kids. And then he doesn't rinse off the dishes before he puts them in the dishwasher, so when they come out they still have food stuck on them and I have to do them again. But I love him anyway. Well, I better go wake everyone up so we can get going. Later. calvin & hobbs |