~ I’m making a Savory Roquefort Cheesecake topped with the thinnest sliced pears and an apricot glaze. It’s “savory,” you see, not a sweet cheesecake at all, so MB is aflame with savory bleu cheese lust. Maybe he can spare me some of that later? If he’s able to move after all the gorging, that is?
~ Football is on in the background even when our could-win-every-game-but-simply-choose-not-to Chargers aren’t playing. It’s the soundtrack of autumn for us.
~ Seen: Random bouts of nudity. The first Christmas commercial.
~ Heard (or maybe said): “You can’t start the day grumpy at me. You have to wait til the end, when you have just cause.”
~ Tasted: Trader Joe’s Greek Honey Yogurt with granola and pears. YUM. Also coffee, of course.
~ Sometimes, like now, I sit and worry about my corrupting influence over my nephews and nieces. Yesterday, my SIL was calling Original Banshee, now 7, to come upstairs. Her reply? “I’ll be there in a minute, peaches!” Uhmmmm ………. yeah, well. Sorry, peaches.
~ Both Banshee Sisters are very interested in the whole “peaches” thing and decided, while we were driving to take them to Dairy Queen, that they too wanted to be called by some type of food moniker. Who doesn’t? So I told OB I wanted to call her Butterbean but she just squinched her nose at me and didn’t like Butterbean at all, which is totally unfathomable, obviously. She decided instead on French Toast or “Frenchy” for short.
“What will you be, Tee Tee?”
“I’m feeling kinda Pop Tarty today.”
“Okay, Poppy!”
And I was Poppy from then on.
Baby Banshee, now 3, wanted to be Whipped Cream.
“But you can call me Whipped, Tee Tee!”
MB and I started howling, shaking hard in our seats. For the rest of the day, that was her name. She insisted we call her “Whipped.” She’s our little oddling. I love her.
~ Through our bedroom window this morning, I heard the toddler boy who lives next door saying goodbye to his dad, his high-pitched voice chirping, “I will be a GOOD boy today, Daddy!” and I started to tear up, just slipping on my shoes, at the thoroughgoing innocence of it all.
~ Worth noting, I never make such promises to my dad anymore because I know I cannot keep them.
I don’t know if you’re good, but you’re perfect for the Yurt Commune. And sorry about the Chargers. We were rooting very hard for them against the J! E! T! S! (and that last bit explains WHY we were rooting so hard for them).
Gotta love those random bouts of nudity.
I am totally stealing and using this: “You can’t start the day grumpy at me. You have to wait til the end, when you have just cause.â€