while we're talking about ridiculous things, why do i ask my 7 month old, "what's wrong?". and i think i legitimately expect her to answer. i mean, she is in the living room playing, i'm cooking dinner. she starts to fuss. i say, "what's wrong, baby?" and keep cooking, waiting, in vain, for a response. she whines a little more, and i repeat, with a little more emphasis, "what is wrong?".
and why don't grocery store baggers know how to put my stuff in my reusable bags? you see that big silver one? the one with the giant words on the side, "FREEZER BAG". and you see all that cold stuff on the belt, grouped so conveniently together? yeah? then why did you put those in a plastic bag? and why do i even BRING my bags, if you are just going to pack my stuff in a plastic bag, and THEN in my bag?
one more thing. why, little miss lola, do i take you outside and let you poo, only to find 20 minutes later, that you have left me another present? in the hallway.
that is all. the oil in the gulf must be seeping in to the water supply around here. maybe i should change my filter........