I just wrote an entire post about a brownie. A brownie that I artfully swiped from Noah's kiddie combo meal lunch, a brownie that he did not even know existed, and that I just ate in three bites within 30 seconds of putting him down for a nap.
And then it occurred to me that really, that one sentence right there? Was STILL more words than one should really write about a brownie, no matter how sad one is that the brownie is now gone and there are no more brownies. So I deleted the first post about the brownie, only to then write this post about the brownie.
I'm really good at this blogging thing, sometimes.
Also, I have now have brownie crumbs in my cleavage, and I appear to have spilled salsa on my belly in three different places.
My cat is real pretty?
One time this happened?
And then one time Noah and I found a ladybug in the house and Noah really, really loved that ladybug and then I said it was time to send the ladybug home and I opened the window to put the ladybug out on the sill but then accidentally dropped the ladybug out the window and Noah looked at me like this because OMFG YOU KILLED DAT LADYBUG?
Yeah. So that's why a brownie seemed like a pretty interesting topic at the time.
(Dear Noah, I'm so, so sorry about the ladybug. I'm sure it's okay, unless I accidentally broke all its legs when I dropped it upside down first and then flipped it off the windowsill while attempting to help it, but you know I used to pick up caterpillars on our walks and let them climb around on my hands and arms for your amusement? I think that should buy me a little forgiveness here.)
(Also, remember that FInding Nemo taught us that toilets lead to the ocean.)
(Spiders freaking LOVE the ocean! It's true!)