The Sens start their playoff run tomorrow

And as Ottawa's biggest bandwagon jumper, the season, for me, starts now. The Stanley Cup is hockey's Holy Grail and to be honest, all the crap teams have now been weeded out and the fun begins. Woohoo!

A lot of players start a playoff beard that they don't shave off until their team is eliminated. And in my zeal, I convinced Scott not to shave until the Sens get booted. I may have used my immense power over that man way too enthusiastically. As soon as I mentioned it I knew we'd be in trouble. The Sens can quite possible make it 'til the end. And when is the end, you ask? June. So I have to live with a grizzly mountain man until then. I've never more wanted my team to crap out more.

The last time Scott had a beard was the 90's. I'd periodically let him grow one because in my youthful naivete, I felt like I was with a different guy for a while. Then he caught a cold. The day he blew his nose and a booger got caught in his moustache was the end of facial hair forever. I refused to kiss him until he got rid of it. You just can't unsee what's been seen. Uck.

Now I've got to deal with this again. What am I in for? Allergy season is coming up. I should really think before I speak. Looks like I'll just have to take one for the team. Pass the kleenex and Purell.

kxx

Wow, 21 readers today and nothing new 'til now!

You like me, you really like me! And I like you too, my lovelies.

I had to work today while everyone else stayed home. It's Easter Monday and all government offices and schools are closed. It's so hard to leave while everyone is still in their pjs. And even harder to come home and they're still that way. Fine.

The girls at work were impressed that I had to set the clock to get to work on time. At 8:30. What can I say? My kids are fantastic. They get up and tiptoe around the house until we get out of bed. Of course it being Easter weekend and having a basket of chocolate each to chow on, this is how I woke up. With Henry hovering beside the bed as soon as he heard the clock:

Henry: Are you awake yet?
Me (from under the covers): Kinda. What's up?
Henry: Can I eat chocolate?
Me: Have you had breakfast?
Henry: No.
Me: Then no.
Henry: Okay.

Have I mentioned lately how obedient my kids are? He and his sibs could have polished off every last rabbit ear in the house and I wouldn't have known. But nope, they ask and even accept no for an answer. Amazing.

I don't want to brag too much but they were awesome at my sister-in-law's yesterday too. There's nothing more complimentary than having well-behaved kids in public. It sure makes you feel like a successful mum.

kxx

I'll never be cool again

Henry came up to me the other day crying. When I asked why, he sobbed, "Audrey called me "cool!"" Huh? Since when is that bad?

So I call Audrey and ask her about it. She indeed admitted that she called her brother "cool". Wha'? "So why is he upset, then?", I demand confounded.

Elliott pipes up, "Because at school, "cool" means: constipated, over-rated, out-of-style, loser."

Aw, MAN. When did this start?

So I make Audrey apologise for calling her brother cool and promise never to do it again. Disaster averted. I guess. How am I supposed to keep track of all these new insults? This is so not cool.

kxx

When I'm done with today's blog, you'll understand why I was cagey

It's about that mysterious medical issue I alluded to in yesterday's blog. So here's the deal: Scott and I engaged in errr.... marital relations Sunday night and no, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the condom. We are using them until he gets his swimmers retested after his big snip. Anyway, afterwards we couldn't find it anywhere. That night it was fine because, really, who wants to look anyway? Monday night we had a thorough search, removing the bedsheets and pillowcases and even sweeping the floor. Nothing. The only thing we could figure was that if it wasn't in the room, it must still be in the womb. Hee.

Tuesday I spent searching myself myself (hee... see, with perspective I can finally laugh at this) and even risked it happening again by asking Scott to search. Nothing. And still nothing in the room. Finally Scott, fed up with worrying about it, demanded I go to the clinic. After Googling (you would not want to see the accompanying photos) he was worried about me getting an infection. I'm still not ready to laugh at the embarrassment of explaining to both the receptionist and doctor about this one. The doctor did assure me he's seen worse things stuck up there but I was too humiliated to ask him to explain. Now, I kinda wish I did.

Well, the doc didn't find anything. Scott thinks it could be in my uterus but he often suffers from delusions of grandeur. So the mystery still stands about where the rubber is but I'm not carrying it around, that's for sure.

And that's why I've been weird and distracted this week. And let's never speak of this again.

kxx

Hmph.

I'm experiencing a personal minor medical mystery right now. I'm relatively obsessed with it and can't really concentrate on anything else. So I'm not going to blog today and won't tell you about it until it's resolved. It's not an emergency or even life threatening. Just enormously, entirely and totally embarrassing. Humiliating, even.

*sigh*

kxx

Check it out

Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?

Alanis does Fergie. I am LOVING this.

kxx

You know those ideas where you think

"I wish I'd thought of that first"? Like a "smitten mitten" for two or Tupperware?

Well here's one for me. This is truly cool. For someone like me who blogs every day, the thought of something so simple yet really powerful is totally intriguing. Imagine seeing how you've grown and changed over eight years in the span of a few seconds. My favourites are the changes of glasses, pimples appearing and disappearing and of course the sprouting of the Captain Jack Sparrow facial hair. Awesome. I wish I'd thought of it first.

kxx