Bebop Cola

Aaron is an early adopter, I'm early majority at best. It's good to be married to an early adopter. I'm a promoter. If I find something I love, I promote it to any one who will listen. I don't know if that is because I want validation for my own choices or if I just want everyone to share in the love...probably a little bit of both.

These are the things I am promoting right now:

Degree for Women Clinical Protection Deodorant: it threw me off for a week but this stuff is awesome. Once it dries it feels like satin in your armpit. And I stay ultra dry...I'm not a very sweaty person, but today I taught Relief Society and yeah not even a slight dampness.

Glad Oder Shield Tall Kitchen Bags in New Vanilla scent: It is potpourri in my trash can. I take several whiffs out of the can before I stash it away under the sink. It is delightful. My father in law even asked if I was making cookies once because of the pleasant scent escaping from under the sink. If I'm in the kitchen, and need a moment, I just waft the door and drink in the soothing vanilla scent of my trash. (Yes, Aaron thinks I'm a psycho.)

The Dinosaur Museum at Thanksgiving Point: This museum is fabulous for kids and adults. All of the girls loved it and they had really cool interactive things for the kids to do: sandpit to dig out dino bones, build your own dino island, a viewing area to watch real paleontologists work on cleaning up bones. Apparently, this museum has the most dino bones in all the US. They have two full size T-rexs. It was frightening to see their actual size, I'm sure my dreams will be terrifying the next time we battle it out.

et tu

This weekend Aaron's family came to town. It was a busy one as usual, the girls were sad to see them go. Of course, granny will be back in two weeks, and then again another two weeks later, and then we'll be in Santa Cruz with them after that. Sometimes I think it is funny that they think we see my family more when in actual time, we spend way more time with Aaron's family. It isn't a bad thing, it's just funny that they think they're getting the shaft (when they aren't). It shocks them when the find out how little we see my parents who live 25 minutes away. I just like my space. Aaron respects it but doesn't understand it.

Anyway this weekend, I got them soo good...but probably not as good as I got Aaron. I love to pull pranks. I am constantly messing with my inlaws or any unsuspecting family member, really. When the group of them: Scott, Margaret, Kiersten, and Bryan got in to town, I made chocolate chip banana cookies--a favero family favorite, which none of them can resist no matter what wild diet they are on. I know this. So I quickly whipped up a batch and even let Kiersten lick the beater, to lull them into complacency. Then I secretly made a smaller bowl, about six cookies worth, with an added 1/4 cup of salt. I tasted my masterpiece and almost gagged on the playdoughesque cookie dough.

I baked the cookies, the bad ones of course came out first. And I neatly handed them each (including Aaron) a warm salty banana cookie. It was my luck that Aaron took the first bite. And after a few seconds he looked at me with his sweet eat poo face. I could not contain my laughter when he pathetically said, "You gave one to me too. I should have know." It was priceless. He was soo butt hurt that I would prank him too. Sometimes its scary how much he and Lauren are alike. Both love pranks but don't actually like them done to them.

One by one each favero fell victim to my cookie ploy because they were oblivious to each other's demise. They took it well but were greatly distraught. I told them that real cookies would be ready in a five more minutes, that eased their pain.

April fool's sidebar: I got Aaron's parents extremely well last year, so this year, Scott called Margaret at 6am on his way to work to reminder her to be on her guard if I called because it was April fool's day. I didn't have anything planned for them, again, I'm patient and wait for them to become complacent before I attack. At 10 o'clock that night, they called. They were disappointed that I didn't have anything planned for them. The fact that they were on guard all day and I didn't do anything made it choice.

snakes, why did it have to be snakes?

I have two reoccurring dreams: tsunamis and dinosaurs. The tsunamis started about a month before I got married, so who knows what that psycho-babble is about, and at first it usually consisted of me being wiped out and not being able to get to anyone. Every time I have the dream it is a new wave and a new location. Although after almost eleven years, and of course being obsessed with learning about tsunamis, I can generally get away in time and now I can save my family. So now my tsunami dreams consist of me trying to save everyone on the beach before it is too late. It is always interesting to me that some people will believe me and run and others will not; I suppose that is how it would be in real life, but because this is a dream what does that say about me, that I can't even dream everyone to believe me? You would think after that big tsunami wiped out all those people in 2006 that I would have had more dreams, but I didn't.

Anyway, the dinosaur dreams are relatively newer, I've probably been having them for the past seven years. There isn't much to them except running for my life. I usually get caught by a wily t-rex. Damn t-rexs are more agile than one might think.

Last night it was t-rexs. They were ravaging a neighborhood and somehow I got the smell of their babies on me. So they were hunting me down. I gave them the slip in the wreckage of a home and I made a break for a pavilion across the street where a bunch of people had been massacred by the dinos. I could hear a baby crying in the mass of bodies, and so I ran to it. It was a baby boy about morgan's age, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. The baby was naked except for a diaper and he had a puncture wound in his stomach that was gushing blood. I laid down next to the baby, hoping I would be able to hide among the dead bodies, and held the little baby's hand. I started stroking the baby's head and trying to comfort him. He stopped crying and looked at me. I knew he would die soon and so I decided to stay with him until he did. I could hear the t-rexs coming, and I knew I only had a few more seconds before I was toast. I didn't look back, I just looked at the baby. He looked back at me, and I could see that he was grateful not to be alone. I could hear the footsteps of the dinos, it wouldn't be much longer now. And then I woke up.

merman

Today it snowed two inches then it was sunny and all the snow melted. Then a few hours later, it snowed another inch. And then I smelled my armpit. That is exactly how I feel today.

And I say to myself, I need exact change

My grandma tobler is about to turn 93. My grandpa died over 12 years ago now. My grandma is more than ready to die, unfortunately, she's fit as a fiddle...what I've learned from both my grandmas is that once your husband dies, forget about taking care of your body and just supersize me. Then I should kick it within a few years. Anyway, my grandma tobler told my parents this weekend the reason she thinks she hasn't died yet. She said,"I think I haven't died because I don't want to do church work in heaven." Then even more seriously, she asked my dad, "How do you do all that church work?" My dad laughed and then told her of a dream he had where he saw my grandpa and a few of his buddies in heaven eating hors d'ouerves and drinking cocktails. So he suggested she could make hors d'ouerves in heaven. She thought about it and decided she could do that.

As for church work, my golden pass of preemie baby has finally expired. I get to teach Relief Society in a few weeks...and the primary president asked Aaron if I'm ready to come back. They just called new primary choristers, so hopefully I'll get something else.

musical sidebar: Is there ever a bad time for White Zombie? seriously, Rob Zombie brings a smile to my heart.

i have another opinion...

Morrissey is the Michael Bolton of 80's alternative rock. That's right, I said it. The Smiths and U2 are severely overrated. Can you deal with that?

James Blunt is the current Michael Bolton...you know, the no-talent ass clown.

I love you two, but I'm going to mace you in the face.

Tomorrow is April Fool's Day. As Bryn might say, "I so excited!" Livy and I already got the parents this weekend with a ruthless "The kusches might have to move again" ploy. We had to cut it short because Kusch thought it was too mean. But he is mistaken, it was choice. And the parents laughed with relief. I have many things planned for tomorrow:

• squirtgun wake up
  
• cottonball muffins
  
• saltwater "juice"
  
• taking the girls for a surprise but really just going to the bank (There will be tears on this one. Lauren hates pranks, especially when she thinks it will be a surprise. Sometimes it's sweet to be a mom.)
  
• Crisco Oreos for Aaron to take to work
  
• and a few others I can't reveal at this time. One might involve a baby chick, it might not...Aaron draws the line at live animals...maybe I can fake one...otherwise I'll just have to settle for peeps.