Your foot is in my pumpkin pie.

Sorry, people, I've got no pictures for you today; call me lazy bones.

Let me take a few moments here for some shout-outs for this week. Happy Birthday, Rex--Nannie Toni and the Krazy Krewe love you! Happy Birthday, Amy--have a rockin' time at your party! And, finally, Happy 5th Anniversary, Tams and Nick!

Switching gears, now...I love that my children are innocent enough to think that calling someone "bagel" is about the worst thing ever. It can, in fact, bring two children to fisticuffs. And for the dear child who likes to start ketchup wars on both students and teacher in his second grade lunchroom, calling someone "french fry" is just as blasphemous, apparently. The Ketchup King served his first lunch detention with the assistant principal today as he is a repeat condiment offender. I will be sure to keep him away from food flinging temptations at my bank's 27th branch Grand Opening tomorrow.

What I may not have control over tomorrow, however, is the shorter child. I've recently decided she is, indeed, a Muppet. Spend a few hours with her, and it will make perfect sense. Anyhow, we've been listening to Muppet Hits in the car lately. Lex loves the song "Upidee," which is utter nonsense. But it's the Muppets, so it's cool. The title of this blog is a line from the song that Lex loves to sing ad nauseam--in an obnoxious, affected voice, just like the song, and with ostentatious gesticulation. If she repeats that to our President/CEO at the Grand Opening, I may very well faint on the spot. I will keep you posted, but pray for us all.

It's a day full of "underwear with ham on rye" (and ketchup) at the Roussel Roost.