Meta

Social Networking enables me to fragment.

I know and adore several folks who are consistently true to themselves across all social networking mediums - but I am not one of them.

I need my mask. It's the only way I feel remotely comfortable expressing any genuine thoughts.

I need to know that I won't show up at work or at a family gathering with a giant EXCLAMATION POINT hovering over my head.

I want to express how I feel and not be held accountable for it. I am a coward.

I feel comfortable declaring my geeky love for books and movies, but not about social or political actions. I have opinions, and I keep them to myself - because above and beyond all else - I am non-confrontational. And my views could possibly be taken as the first sally in an argument that I never intended nor wanted in the first place.

I retreat here, where I can count on one hand the number of folks who know my real name.

I want to be a better person - if only to be a good role-model for my daughter - but I'll settle for owning the fact that I can't be "everybody's everything," read to her every night, and hope for the best.

Muffin's a smart girl - got a 100 on her very first spelling test today! She'll figure it out better than I ever could and I'll support her every step of the way.

Say It Isn't So!!

Some of you may remember a post I did called "What The Hell Happened To Hal Sparks" way back in 2008. It happens to be my most read post - and I'm pretty sure it has everything to do with the fact that a celebrity's name is in the title. I have also received the widest variety of comments from that single post - spanning nearly 18 months! Wow, make a comment about someone's personal style and everyone has something to say...

Then, I saw this on Lamebook yesterday. My long time VH1 "I Love The 80's" commentator received a scathing personal review from a formerly starry eyed fan.

(click here or the picture for the link)


I'm not sure this chick deserves my sympathy. After all, she freely admitted that she spent the night with him because he was a celebrity. His cheating on a girlfriend is really not her business. Making a public announcement about his alleged lack of mad bed skillz just sounds like sour grapes to me.

So, I choose to believe that she's just bitter about not getting a morning after phone call. That way, I can still keep Hal on his pedestal. Because it's all about me. Me, me, me!

Franklin Mott = Epic Batshit Crazy Win

This is why True Blood Season 3 rocks my socks:



Best. Scene. Ever!

Who wants more Franklin? I do! I do!!

Yeah, Just Checking In

I have been the most random poster of late and in the spirit of randomness I present a lolcat. One that I feel perfectly represents moi in an advanced state of inebriation. Voila!



I am the classic "I love you, man" drunk. Oh, and remind me to tell you about the "touch my butt" evening of drinking - that was a classic.

Have a great weekend!

An Evening at the Pool

It took me over a month, but I finally got around to having my recreation access pass made for the complex we live in. Since then, we’ve been going to the pool at every possible opportunity – it’s a great pool! It’s huge! Even on a busy day there is plenty of room for all the kids to mess about without running in to each other. My favorite part is that in the late afternoon (my favorite time to go) nearly half of the sitting area is shaded. Sweet.

So Muffin and I hurried home yesterday (did I mention we have HOV privileges now?) and were able to scramble into our suits in time to spend an hour or so up at the pool before dinner and bed. Here are a few observations from that short amount of time:

1. Late afternoon pool time on a weekday ROCKS! There is barely anyone there and all the good seats are open. Yes! (insert fist pump)

2. Since there were relatively few people to see, late afternoon on a week day was the prime time for me to show off my mad diving skillz in the diving well.

3. OM-Fing-G OUCH!

4. Apparently I’ve grown several chest sizes since my last trip off a diving board. Can we say Boob Flop? I tried several times and each dive off the board resulted in me smacking into the water in a most uncomfortable way. Either I need to relearn how to dive or tuck these puppies away somewhere safe next time.

5. Little boys have no fear. A couple of Muffin’s kindergarten classmates decided to join in the pain joy of the diving board and I suffered for them. They would literally just RUN off the end of the board and either land on their side or back with a loud SPLAT. Then, they’d pop right back up and do it all over again. At every splat the moms would all wince and look anxiously to see if the little fellow was dead or maimed. Nope. Just a little red on one side. Bless their little hearts.

6. One of my neighbors has the uncanny ability to sound exactly like a water buffalo in heat. Seriously, this guy was making obscene honking/snorting noises that sounded like large farts from a hippo’s ass. These noises may or may not have been intended to clear chlorinated water from his sinuses but really only succeeded in earning him lots of the “eww do that somewhere else” looks from all of us normal people.

7. A full day of swim camp + an evening at our pool = one tuckered out little Muffin. The child was drooping and dragging her feet all the way home. The only thing that elicited a somewhat excited response was dinner. After that she begged to go to bed. Muahh ha ha ha – now I know the secret!

And that’s all folks – one hour of observation from the pool of Chez Bebop. Stay tuned for pictures of my budding diva sporting a plethora of bathing suits and hot pink goggles.

Crafty Tues - er, Wednesday!

A few months ago I was walking with a co-worker at lunch and the subject of knitting came up. I mentioned that I had made a few things and she said that she had bought a book and wanted to learn. One thing led to another and I wound up giving her a tiny lesson in my office a few weeks later. She and I made a little bookmark (one of my very first projects) and we were both pleased. I had put knitting to the side since Christmas but working on the bookmark reminded me of how fun it was and I vowed to pick it back up again.

Sadly, knitting is not an activity that I associate with lounging by the pool and since that is what I plan to do all summer, I wasn’t sure how I was going to work in my craftiness. Then, yesterday, my co-worker told me that another woman on her floor also knits and that she wanted us all to get together at lunch a few times a week and work on projects. All you crafters will agree, there is nothing more awesome than talking shop with a fellow enthusiast. We gushed about our stash, showed off a couple of WIPs and made a date for today to get together. Our first mission is to make dishcloths to send to the gulf and help clean the marine critters. Co-worker #2 had heard of this charity at her local yarn store and since dishcloths are simple and quick we thought it would be a fun thing to do.

Plus, I’m PMSing and the thought of oil drenched marine critters is making me want to cry right now. TMI?

So, it’s not exactly Tuesday – but it’s a crafty day anyway. Also, Muffin picked out some pretty pink and purple yarn that I’m going to make into a dishcloth with a heart for her. Then she can use it to clean her bathroom sink (since her toothpaste is pink it shouldn’t matter) and everybody will be happy! Ok, I’ll be happy – but hey, I’m the one who counts!

If anyone is interested in the oil spill clean-up charity here is the link – submissions are due by the end of August and aren’t limited to knitted cloths. Any type of hand crafted small towel is welcome. Save the dolphins! *sob* And have fun while you’re at it!

Sassy Pants - How do you remove them?

I'm in dire need of assistance here, fair readers. How do I put the kibosh on sass backs? They seem to have developed overnight - not unlike that ugly mushroom outside my front door. One day I had a perfectly lovely little six-year-old. The next, I have a sassy little drama queen. Ok, to be fair, the drama was always part of the equation - but the sassy was not.

I developed whip-lash neck this weekend after hearing sass after sass after sass. An example:

In response to a snack confirmation request she said "Mom, I totally did not say that," complete with eyeroll and hair toss. What the hell? When did she learn to insert "totally" into a sentence to lend it validity? Also, yes you did, Muffin. You totally DID say that and now, because of your sass, I'm holding you to it as opposed to a snack change. Goldfish it is - it's your own sassy fault that you forgot about the My Little Pony gummy treats.

I know that the recent sass-plosion can not be due to her television choices because I'm pretty sure that Dora would get her ass handed to her if she decided to sass her abuela. Muffin did, however, start summer camp at the YMCA last week - so the change in companions is a reasonable explanation. Who knew that the Alexandria VA children would be so disrespectful! Still, I'm not giving up my HOV privileges on account of her new attitude - we can fix the attitude (I hope), HOV is priceless.

So, aside from scolding and stuff - how do you liberate a little girl from sass? Any advice? I thought about the punishment I would have received if I had even thought about talking back to my parents - but I'm pretty sure that I don't want CPS involved. Is this what I have to look forward to for the next ten years? Say it isn't so!

Lost ala Lolcats

Yeah, I suck. I haven't even WATCHED the last Lost Episode - and yet, this lolcat video made my day.



We All Everybody!

What, Six Weeks Already?

Wow. Six weeks have gone by pretty fast with no updates in Bebop-land. Any idea why that might be? Well, it's pretty much because nothing has happened.

Oh sure, Muffin said some really cute things and her jack-ass of a dad acted like a... well, a Jackass. But neither of things is novel nor earth shattering. Though, as a mom I have to say Muffin's little turns of phrase are pretty adorable. She has taken to spelling things out and the results are very amusing. I love six-year-olds. As long as they are related to me. (Just kidding! not really)

I have utterly failed at unpacking the boxes I swore to have unpacked by Easter. When was Easter? Like a month ago? Yep, epic fail on my part! But I own it. It's like I was explaining to my older sister - I've lived without this crap for nearly a year now!

Part of me just wants to throw the boxes in the dump. But a greater part of me knows that there are things in these boxes that I will want later. Things like baby pictures and shit. You know, that stuff we're supposed to hold on to for sentiment's sake? I'm reminded of a George Carlin skit that explains the mystery of *stuff* - anyone else remember that one? Just me? No wait! There's YOUTUBE!




Yep, pretty much me in a nutshell. All I need is my Vaseline, french toenail clippers and a dildo. AND if you didn't watch to the end of that clip then you can just keep imagining those are my treasured possessions. If you did watch until the end... How did he know? (LOL! no really how did he KNOW)

So, my time off? I can't really account for it. Just living, working, driving, shopping - the stuff of life. I'd blog more at work (my favorite place to blog!) but my computer is inconveniently placed so that everyone walking by can see the screen. Strangely enough, blogging on company time isn't exactly smiled upon. Go figure.

Random Snippets

I know I’ve been a ghost around these parts – I have a new addiction. No, not a video game (*cough*) but something else. I started writing, not here obviously, but yeah. I’m absolutely consumed with it. Takes up most evenings and lunch breaks these days. Times that were formerly devoted to snarky blog posts and other amusing antics. Hence, the ghostliness.

Snippet #2: Muffin’s Dad has called her a grand total of TWO times since Christmas. The first, around president’s day, was to request a visit – which I agreed to. But, he never called back to set up a date or time so… No visit. The second was to leave a long, cryptically melodramatic message about needing to see Muffin and “things going on” and “must talk to you about” vagaries. Seriously? Fine, so we called back. I actually let Muffin call him back (three days later) and when he answered I could tell something was wrong. She was trying to tell him how much she missed him and stuff and he sounded loud and strange. Finally, she handed the phone over to me and I could tell that he was crying. Turns out, there was some serious shit going down at that exact moment concerning his estranged wife and children. He said he’d call back.

Right, remember that whole incident with Mr. X? Guess what I did? I GOOGLED! And found nothing. I searched local newspapers, facebook, every avenue I could think of and found nothing. Which is frustrating when you’re dying for gossip information. He did call back and explain slightly. Nothing that I couldn’t have predicted, but still sad and upsetting – for him. And… since this blog is about me, not him I won’t go into it. (That noise? That was me taking the high road! It is a steep slope, lemme tell ya) He wanted to set up a time to see Muffin that just so happens to coincide with my long anticipated trip home. He understood and is going to come to my hometown and take her out to dinner. Compromise? What next – time running backwards? Color my world rocked.

Which brings me to snippet number three – I’m going home this coming weekend. I’m taking half a day off of work to spend two nights with the parents. One night is going to be dedicated to my sister and local buddy – a fact that my parents aren’t aware of. Also, Mom and Dad don’t know about the arrangement with Muffin’s Dad. Actually, I haven’t been communicating with them much at all since their last visit. So, I guess I’d better get on the horn and let mom them know what’s going on so that mom they can alter their plans accordingly. Plans that will undoubtedly include Mexican food, a trip to Grandpa’s and a “long walk” which is a euphemism for “let’s go for a walk and gossip about the family!”

Good times, good times. I’m going to keep my hand in here at chez bebop, but I’m SO lacking blog fodder these days! Having an uncomplicated life leads to a dull blog, I guess. In other news, the great winter of 2010 has finally given way to a lovely spring. The flowers in these parts could not contain themselves. They are blooming all over! I can’t help but feel that Mother Nature has a final “F U” snow up her sleeve and that all the lovely blooms will be killed off – but you know me, always looking for the downside. See you around the interwebs!

What The French Toast?

A couple of weeks ago my good friend Deb visited and turned me on to my new favorite (kid friendly) phrase. What The French Toast? Apparently it is derived from an Orbitz commercial and now I will share that commercial with you.



Lint Licker! Hoe-boken! Sweet...

Anywho - remember that post I did a while ago about workplace culture and the like? Guess what all of my co-workers are saying now? What The French Toast?!?! I love it! Thanks Deb!

Wrapping Up The Drama

So, we were never exactly told the reasons behind Mr. X's arrest but I'm guessing it has something to do with the fraud allegations that were uncovered thanks to the modern miracle that is Google. Bless you Google for making it possible to spy on boyfriends/girlfriends/ex's/etc coworkers. You make the world a little less private and a whole lot more embarrassing. Oh, and according to you I'm a doctor as well as a budding rock star and make tiny clay figurines from home. Yay for me.

Right, the arrest happened on Monday, on Thursday there was a "one-liner" from our HR person saying that "Mr. X is no longer employed at Calicobebop's Workplace." Oops, my bad - it was a two liner - the second line read "He is no longer allowed on the premises or in the parking garage." Wha-damn! Oh yeah, and they hired a security guard who now sits on his ass in the lobby protects us from vengeful ex-employees hell bent on fulfilling their dream of going postal on all the people who wronged them.

You can always tell by the announcement if someone has left in disgrace or with the blessing of upper management. If you've screwed up and gotten fired or just quit - you get the little one liner. "So-and-so is no longer an employee." If you've retired after busting your buns for 20 odd years, you get the three paragraph glowing report of the many ways you contributed to the organization and how you will be missed and that we all wish you luck on future endeavors, blah, blah, blah...

OK, so Mr. X is "fired" on Thursday. On Friday the HR person sent out a job announcement for his position. This company works fast, lemme tell you! Not sure what we're supposed to do in the meantime but I think it's along the lines of "man up and deal" because that's the vibe I'm picking up and I'm usually not very intuitive.

There it is, the story that I will probably tell a thousand times so stop me if you've heard it before.

Also, I just want to thank all of you that have offered me a seat on your ride to Hell. I vote we all car pool together and get tricked out van complete with mini bar. What do you think? After all, vans are the personality vehicles! Let's ride!

Update on the workplace drama...

Well, here’s an update of sorts…

Of course, Monday night my co-workers and I googled the HELL out of Mr. X and came up with some past convictions of fraud as well some other things but nothing really shocking or scandalizing. It does make one wonder though, how well do you really know your co-workers? I mean, this guy was apparently lying his pants off – and getting away with it – and nobody knew!

This morning, on my way to the break room, I saw our office manager showing a security guard around and showing him where to conduct his patrol. So, apparently the organization has decided to step up security as a result of this incident. I’m going out on a limb here and assuming that this is a “cover your ass” kind of thing and not the result of an actual threat.

Also, I imagine that the background/security checks will be ramped up for future employees (I slipped through though, whew!) because if I can type in the guy’s name on google and see all this shit – chances are the HR people could have done the same.

I still haven’t heard anything about his girlfriend and since she works in an entirely different department two floors down, I haven’t had the opportunity to snoop express my concern. It’s not looking good for the guy. The level of excitement around here has dwindled back to normal levels but if anything new develops I’ll be sure to write something about it – if not on FB, then here for sure!

Why I'm going to Hell...

SO! Guess what happened at work yesterday! What? No idea? OMG, lemme tell you!

Ok, we have a meeting every Monday at 3PM that involves all the "major players" in project development. I work very closely with all of these individuals and one of these men, Mr. X, even sat in on my interview. He has a military background, like myself and we have worked together on several projects. I would call him a "work friend" meaning that I don't really socialize with him outside the workplace but at the office we share inside jokes and roll our eyes at the same kind of thing. You know what I mean, right? Work friend.

Anyhoo! Yesterday I was the first to arrive in the conference room and Mr. X was next. He laid his stuff down on one of the tables (key card, phone, papers, etc) then said something like "Be right back," before exiting again. I assumed he was going for some water or tea or whatever. A couple of minutes later, my female colleague, Holly* entered the room and exclaimed "OMG, I JUST SAW MR X GETTING ESCORTED OUT OF THE BUILDING IN HAND CUFFS!!!!!"

What the french toast?!?!

We both rushed to the window to look down at the entrance of the building. Then, our boss's boss comes in and is all "Hey, what's going on?" and while Holly is explaining I spot Mr X and two coppers trying to sneak around the side of the building. "They're heading around the back!" I cried!

The three of us ran towards the back window and, because I'm a shameless gossip who has very few boundaries, I yanked up the mini blinds to expose his guilt to the... conference room! We're standing there, watching Mr X get frog-marched to one of FIVE police cruisers when bam - the rest of the people scheduled to attend the meeting show up.

Rex* came over and stood between Holly and myself. "Is that X?" he jokes. "YES!!!!" we cry in unison!! "It's totally Mr. X and he's in handcuffs and there are like five cop cars and OMG WTF?!?!?!"

But, we have a meeting to attend to and (for some reason) it seems to be the silent consent that nothing of Mr. X's plight should be communicated to the team members that have dialed in to the conference call. Why? Hell if I know! Why would you not be all "Holy Fucking SHIT you will not believe what just went down!" But, I guess this is why I'm not in management. Those kinds of decisions escape me.

During the meeting, which was 1 1/2 hours I might add, Holly and I were exchanging notes on a piece of paper. "What happened?" "How the fuck do I know?" "Was it drugs?" "Dog fighting?" we exchanged a glance "PORN?" OMG, I will never look at anything naughty on the work computer again, I swear to God - not even Jude Law. Even though he is very close to the Lord, in my opinion. Especially when not wearing a shirt.

I'm going to Hell aren't I?

After the meeting wrapped up Holly, Rex and I rushed back to the office I share with Gabe*. I mean, it had been over an HOUR! Surely, in an organization as small as ours SOMETHING would be known by now. Did he beat up his girl friend? Neglect to pay back taxes? Too many parking tickets?

No idea! Guess we'll find out today... Or not.

Wanna know what my first thought was? After seeing this co-worker/work friend dragged out of the building, in handcuffs, with little-to-no dignity? "I cannot WAIT to update my facebook status!"

And that, dear readers is why I'm a terrible person and facebook is evil. Case and point.

*names changed to protect my innocent yet equally culpable coworkers. Also, please note that I did NOT in fact update FB. Though, I was sorely tempted.

In all seriousness, I really do feel bad for the man. He is a great guy, excellent in his job - he did many great things in a great organization. Plus, his girl friend works in our building and I can only imagine how terrible this must be for her - she is a super nice lady. I am ashamed at my paparazzi-like, ghoulish need for gossip and hope for some kind of redemption.

Down the road, that is. Plus, it would be a bonus if - you know - it wasn't too painful or embarrassing. Wouldn't want to see it on facebook. Gah, can you imagine?

Boo Boo Zone

What is the quickest way to ensure your child has a mishap? Dress them up! Nice clothes attract misadventure – it’s a proven fact. So, after allowing Muffin to wear a dress and tights to school yesterday I shouldn’t have been surprised to find her in tears when I picked her up.

Muffin was sitting alone, despondently poking at some Lincoln Logs when I came to pick her up. I could tell that she was in the zone. The Boo Boo Zone. And let me tell you, when Muffin goes into the Boo Boo Zone, she lingers. She wallows. She savors every shuddering teary breath. And it lasts for HOURS – literally hours. She was still going on about her boo boo when I tucked her into bed.

(Where in the wide world of sports did my daughter get this drama gene? She was a hot mess. Bless her little heart I know exactly where she gets the “does not cry pretty” gene because let’s face it, fair skinned freckly people tend to get red and blotchy when the tears come so, sorry Muffin – Mama owns that one.)

Turns out she had a little accident and fell down while playing outside. Twice. On the same knee. The first coherent words out of her mouth were “I went to the bathroom to pull down my tights and look at my boo boo and,” here she paused for effect “there was blood” she finished in a horrified whisper.

I knew, then and there that this was going to be a long one. One quick look was enough to let me know that she was in no danger because whatever blood she had seen had not even shown up on her white tights.

She limped out of Kindercare and to the car and when we got in she explained “the reason why I’m walking that way is because of my boo boo and it really hurts when I straighten my leg.” This announcement was followed by more tears and sniffles. The 20 minute ride home was punctuated by exclamations of pain, lots of tears and (to my jaded ears) forced, fake crying. She was well and truly gone - oblivious to everything except the performance.

Once at home I asked her to go and take off her tights so I could examine the boo boo. This exercise was met with fresh tears and moans of pain. There she sat, on a little chair in her room, bereft of tights, sobbing hot tears of misery. I took a look. THERE WAS BARELY A SCRATCH! BARELY!! No blood! Just red welts that, perhaps to a six-year-old, may have been confused for blood. Regardless, I whipped out my secret weapon – a Dora Band-aid.

Once the band-aid was applied her mood perked up a little. She still limped dramatically, but on the whole the tears where gone. I was messing about on the computer when she came over, sat next to me, put her head on my shoulder and stated “My boo boo hurt as much as my heart would hurt if you died.”

What the French toast? My daughter has gone all EMO at age six? (dammit, I knew my love of 80’s alternative rock would come back to haunt me) When I tucked her into bed I said that I hoped her boo boo would feel better the next day and she nodded, sniffing tearily.

And you know what? No mention of it today. We’re talking over three hours of red-welt-induced drama last night and today – gone! Poof! She is as changeable as the weather. Bless her little heart.

My cat totally gets this...

Oh, the persecution of the kitteh...


see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Autocomplete Muffin

OMG - a post about my daughter!


see more

I do love the "I Can Has Cheezburger" network... So much entertainment in one place!

Friday Rambles

Wow. Friday. End of a five-day work week. Been a while since I’ve worked five days in a row – thanks to snow, and more snow and President’s day and then some more snow. I’m so exhausted that I have absolutely nothing to blog about.

That doesn’t mean I can’t ramble on though! Let’s hear it for some rambling!

I have fostered an addition in my child. She is now a hard core gamer. That’s right – when faced with a week of forced togetherness I broke down, went to the local game store and bought a Barbie horseback riding game. It was a life-saver at the time and now she wants to play it all the time. I’ve to get medieval tough and restrict game time to weekends and only for a couple hours. When she asked why that rule didn’t apply to me I had to lay it out for her: “Because I’m the Mama, that’s why.”

Let’s hear it for being the Mama.

Sometimes being the Mama sucks though – like when you have to figure out where that odd smell is coming from? And when there are bugs to be killed… And snow to be shoveled… Though, Elliott did suggest that I toss Miss Muffin out there next winter because (in his words) it will make her strong, like bear! Know what? I’m totally going to do it. Next winter (and watch there be no snow) she’s getting her very own shovel to “help” Mama.

Speaking of “helping” Mama… I want to introduce my six-year-old to some real household chores. You know, make her earn her keep! I remember helping out with chores when I was young, but I can’t remember how old I was. I usually had to dust baseboards, vacuum, load the dishwasher and clean bathrooms but is that too much for my girl? I mean, she already makes her bed and keeps her room neat – doesn’t that mean she can graduate to some REAL housecleaning? Have I brought this up before? Maybe I’ll start her out with the bathroom – it’s my least favorite chore anyway.

Muahh ha ha hah… Let’s hear it for child labor.

Speaking of chores, guess who’s buying a new vacuum this weekend? That’s right – moi! Apparently the move did not agree with my old vacuum as it has begun to make some rather alarming noises and vibrates in my hand. Not that I have anything against the vibrating (ha!) but the noise? The noise concerns me. I’d hate to have the damn thing blow up and kill me. Wouldn’t that be a horrible thing for my daughter to see? Yikes! Does anyone else have crazy morbid thoughts like that? I got so paranoid over the bat-shit-crazy-landlady last fall that I insisted Muffin know how to dial 911 and my parents. Then I bought a new phone and haven’t taught her how to use it yet. Note to self…

I suppose that’s enough randomness for the time being… So, aside from vacuuming, monitoring my daughter’s game usage and teaching her how to dial 911 in case I keel over unexpectedly - we don’t have much planned for the weekend. We might *gasp* get out and go somewhere! Miracle of miracles! Or… not. That’s how we roll – unpredictable, unchained, free as the wind! Have a great weekend!

WTF Thursday - Facebook FTW

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. There are times when I think it's pure evil and times when I think it's just slightly wicked. One of the things I HATE are the "friend suggestions" and here is a failbooking entry that completely captures this feeling:


see more funny facebook stuff!

No kidding! If I haven't "friended" them in the past year or so that probably means I don't WANT to "friend" them! PLEASE stop suggesting that I reconnect with someone I loathe!!! Kai Thks!

Um, Tooth Fairy? Do your job!

I saw this on one of my favorite giggle sites Passive Aggressive Notes - when I saw this I laughed out loud! What's sad is that I almost forgot to do the tooth fairy duty they other night. So, so glad I didn't.

Here is the full story. I hope I never forget and incur the wrath of a passive aggressive first grader!