Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Where Have I Been All Your Life?


So, let’s catch up. Aramie and Kacey (my sister and niece) were here for a few weeks and we had a good time. The girls did not get along, which was a bummer, but when you put two only children together, mayhem is guaranteed to ensue. So, in a nutshell, the girls fought, Aramie and I laughed and ate, my friends loved my sister (of course), and I almost choked to death twice. It was good times.

Now that my brother Nate and his wife, Haley, are moving down, something new has been brought to my realization. Hostess Ding-Dongs have 19 grams of fat and 360 calories a pop! Well, serving size is actually 2 dongs. I know that seems unrelated, but as skinny as my brother is, he is made up of probably 78% processed sugar. When Nate lives here, there is always good food around. So, between my brother and Frankie, the probability of diabetes just skyrocketed in the Parmenter household! Anyway, I only realized those ding-dong stats after I ate one! And I didn’t even like it that much.

What is something deplorable that you love to eat?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Was It You?




Sorry I’ve been so scarce; my sister and niece are in town. I do need to update you on an Adventure of Darby Danae. You don’t want to miss this one.

Aramie and I took our daughters to Hobby Lobby (my fave) and were looking around when Darby realized suddenly that she needed to use the bathroom. “Mom, I have to poop.” Ah, the words every mother loves to hear while shopping in a dirty and unkempt store. We searched for a bathroom and once we found it, were horrified to see that literally every stall in the place was open and each toilet full of doo-doo. Nice. I said, “Sorry Baby, we are going to have to go home. All of these toilets already have poop in them.” I alerted Aramie and we grabbed our daughters and made our way to the front of the store, where we could exit. Darby wanted me to carry her, and as we moved from the back of the store to the front of the store, my sweet little Darbenstien pointed her tiny little finger at each person we passed. She had on her best stink-eye and used her most authoritative and accusatory tone as she said, “Who pooped in the toilet?!”

Seriously, like 20 people were accused by my three year old of pooping in the toilet at Hobby Lobby. The last person received the most venom as Darby pointed, accused, and even slung an insult; "Who pooped in the toilet?! That dirty rat." True story.

As we’ve always expected and been barely able to escape these last 3 years, Darby and I can no longer be seen in respectable society (but after our bathroom experience, can we really call our society ‘respectable?’). If you need us, we are quarantined in our home practicing our manners.

But I think the real issue at hand is exactly what put us in the predicament in the first place; who pooped in the toilet?