Buying a $500 blender…
…in order to eat more kale.
Me: “Why are you guys being so mean to Paul? Every time I see him, he’s crying.”
Oldest son: “We’re not any meaner than normal, he’s just weak today.”
My daughter received the following flier for a Spring Break sports camp:
I knew the public schools were trying to indoctrinate my kids.
Speaking of yoga and the marital arts, I cannot think of anything I’d rather do less than nude co-ed yoga. Who does that work for, exactly?
I spent four days trying to respond to the big marriage debate on Simcha’s facebook page and blog, and finally decided that I was really glad she was the one fighting that battle rather than me. Plus, it’s really hard to go all into how hard marriage gets sometimes without talking about how hard your marriage is. And frankly, my marriage is a tough nut to crack.
I asked my husband, “How can you be sure I won’t cheat on you someday?”
And he said, “Have you looked at my body lately? I’m hot.” And then he said something about marital arts that I’m not going to repeat. And we’ve been dealing with this stuff for fourteen years, friends. The only thing growing in holiness around here is his underwear.
Do you remember when people used to win thousand dollar shopping sprees all the time? Or some little old lady would have two minutes to throw as much stuff as possible into her cart and you’d see her strategizing about where to go first in the grocery–to the dry goods and toiletries because they’re the most expensive stuff and they don’t rot. I used to think that was one of the best things that could happen to a person, that you could fill a shopping cart with stuff (!) and take it all home with you.
But lately when I go to the grocery, I feel like one of those little old ladies rushing as fast as I can to fill my cart, only I’m getting stuck with the bill at the end. And then the stuff only lasts two days. This is not everything I had hoped it would be.
These children!…Are eating!….SO MUCH FOOD!!
We were talking about Eminem last week, weren’t we? Whether or not Lizzie Scalia should write a book about him.
I told her how my husband used to love Eminem, and one time we were arguing in the car about whether or not he was a genius. My husband said indeed he was. But I said that any two-year-old could rhyme cuss words–doesn’t take genius at all.
And from the car seat behind us, my then two-year-old son piped up, “Genius penis.”
(I know who the real genius is.)
Bonus take: This video is an oldy for sure, but I like to watch it every now and again because it’s an awesome reminder of how marital love isn’t just human, it’s Divine.