Oh, you guys. Last night I somehow got into an extensive Twitter conversation about bully sticks (don't click that link if you're faint-hearted, or maybe have a super uptight workplace), and I STILL haven't recovered. I died about eight times during that conversation. In case you're wondering, yes, Montana eats them regularly, and yes, they are super expensive but less so at Costco, and yes, it's a gross concept but in practice it's just like a rawhide bone, and dammit, they're healthy! 80% protein and no other ingredients! Also, what do you think wild animals do? Eat the tasty cuts of meat off their kills and leave the unsavory bits with cultural taboos to rot? I'M JUST SAYING.
(OMG. That conversation. It went from bully sticks to protein to dehydration to old neighbors to cost-effectiveness to lobsters and eggs. It was a perfect illustration of the genius of Twitter. I love Twitter so much. And it was totally my savior during my accidental blogging hiatus.)
Unrelatedly, our household was felled by a stomach bug over the weekend, and OH GOD. We all had one of these last year, and both times we got them in the same order: first Callum, then Torsten, then me. Thank goodness this one wasn't nearly as crippling as the last one, but it was still extremely unpleasant. Also, I think being the last one to get sick is unfair. While I'm still healthy, I have to cater on the other two, all the while KNOWING that the bug is coming for me next and not being able to do anything to stop it. UGH. Luckily it passed quickly, but while I was lying in bed wishing for death I was thinking: this is the thing you don't expect when you have kids! They bring evil stomach bugs into the house on a regular basis! Shouldn't I be immune to all this crap by now? APPARENTLY NOT. We need a stomach bug vaccine! STAT.
Since apparently this post is just going to be a disconnected assortment of thoughts that should probably be turned into some sort of bulleted list that I can't be bothered with: there are TONS of Romney yard signs cropping up on our street, and on the other streets in our neighborhood. So many of them popped up simultaneously that I'm wondering if some sort of Romney canvasser rang doorbells and handed them out for free. I have yet to see a single Obama sign in the neighborhood, even though our next-door neighbor told us that it was a pretty even mix back in 2008. We ordered an Obama sign a couple weeks ago, but it's not here yet. I can only hope that the delay is because they're so backed up with orders, but seriously, I want my sign! (Also, hopefully the delay isn't because some Romney supporter stole the package off our porch.) (Also, Five Thirty Eight is saving my sanity on a regular basis right now.)
But I shouldn't complain about the Romney signs, really, because I love living in a swing state and feeling like my vote matters. If only Torsten could vote! Maybe someday...
(Also, did you hear about Romney's comment about how plane windows should roll down? I know it was off the cuff, but it's kind of a stunning comment. I mean, everyone knows why plane windows don't roll down. Plus, in addition to the whole suction and lack of oxygen issues, I love that the comment suggests that what you want to put out a fire is MORE OXYGEN.)
OK, snark over. To restore balance to any potential Romney supporters who might be reading this (though really, my reaction would be the same, or possibly more upset, if Obama had said such a thing), here is a picture of my child in the bath last night:
He spent the entire bath doing this (aside from the quick break he took to throw his giant tugboat full of water out of the tub and onto the floor). Even though I hustled him out quickly once I saw what his activity of choice was going to be, it still took many towels to mop up the flood. It's a good thing he's so cute.
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