Sometimes I Wonder

I wonder why I can't get the smell of perfumed kitty litter out of my nose.  It's like I'm being suffocated with it.

I also wonder why the instant a cat pinches one off, whiffs of old-people flower perfume with undertones of cat poop hit me in the face as though I've been slapped.  I don't understand this.  First off, whose idea was it to add perfume to kitty litter and secondly, who thinks the funeral-home flower smell is a good one?  Can't the litter people hook up with the Glade people and try a Hawaiian Breeze scented litter?  Or what about Scensy?  I don't think I have a ton of time on my hands to ponder things like this, however it's definitely something I've been wresting with. 

I also wonder why a simple fall down a single step has me hobbling around like a 92 year old woman in need of a hip replacement.  I'm not that old.  Again, I don't get it.

I wonder if Molly will talk at school today.  She's taken on a vow of silence at school and we're trying our hardest to break it.  Saturday she had a preschool friend over to play and they did really well together. 

They played Barbies, painted nails, drove the jeep, made a mess in the Easy Bake Oven, dressed up and played school.  Neither one of them can say their 'R's' well and I feel like my hearing is on it's way out, so you can imagine how the afternoon played out.

At school she won't talk, yet at home she's obsessed with saying

"Honk if you're horny". 

All. The. Time. 

I have no words.

Another concept I find myself struggling with is the invention of the Easy Bake Oven.  Who in their right mind thought baking a $5 cake mix in a cupcake pan made for someone the size of Tinkerbell, with light bulb as a heat source was a good idea?  Then, when the batter gets smeared all over the inside of the 'heating compartment' there is no physical way to clean it.  Therefore, each time it's heated, the smell of burned blueberry muffins fill the house.  It's got to be one of the stupidest toys we've ever owned.  It's probably right behind a pogo stick.  I can't believe it survived the move from the Winterset house, to the rental and finally to our new house. 

Apparently it's a fighter.

I also wonder how this creature can be so obsessed with food.  He walked an entire hour with me down a gravel road this afternoon.  He stayed next to me the entire time knowing I had treats in my pockets. 

Again, fascinating.

Our path.  Which beats any gym scenery as far as I'm concerned.

And lastly, I wonder how I found someone as strange as myself to marry?  I've battled dry skin on my heels since.... forever.  It occurred to me ditch thr pumice stone and plug in the electric sander. 

Worked like a charm.  Once Mike got over the ticklishness of it, he was hooked as well.

This is how we spent Saturday afternoon.  Nothing says true love like using the same sandpaper to smooth out rough heels.

As I finish this post, there's a cat rubbing against my leg and the dog barking at the door wanting to eat 'em.  A foam football nearly hit me in the head and my kids are eating me out of house and home an hour before I waste my time making dinner.

I have no real problems, and for that I am beyond grateful.