Friday, September 11, 2009

Thoughts of Randomness

As the title indicates, I have several completely random and possibly meaningless thoughts bouncing around in my head. And the only way to get rid of them is to get them out. So here they are, in no particular order.

* I have come to the conclusion that the one dog we now own is dirtier and stinkier than the two we previously owned at the same time. How? I have no idea. But after cleaning around his crate, going crazy on some new carpet stains, and washing his bedding, I’m convinced he’s just…ew. Not that I don’t like him, because I do. I just don’t get where the filth is coming from. Maybe we should’ve named him Pigpen.

* Speaking of Pigpen, I think I’ve decided to part with my Peanuts collection. I started gathering some awesome Peanuts stuff years ago with grandiose plans to create a Peanuts nursery when we had a baby. Oh, I was going all out with an awesome mural on the wall and/or some artwork I was planning on creating. Obviously, that didn’t happen, as C’s room is a mish-mash of blue and polka dots. And I really don’t see myself using that stuff for another kid, either.

So in my semi-annual need to clean and get rid of stuff we’re not using, I’ve decided to sell it all. It’ll probably make its way to eBay soon. Once I actually take it out of the box, take photos, and post it. Gosh, that’s a lot of work.

*I believe it to be a sad state of affairs when American Idol feels the need to have Ellen DeGeneres as its replacement judge for Paula Abdul. I mean, come on, we all knew Paula was a bit loopy, but at least she had some experience in the music industry. Seriously? I think the only time I've ever seen Ellen sing was in an American Express commercial, and from what I saw, I don't think I want her judging other people's vocal talent. I'm sure she's a nice person, I am just not a fan. Husband was disappointed at the new selection as well. But then I reminded him that it could be worse. They could've chosen Rosie O'Donnell.

*Football season has begun, which means it is about to get loud around our house. Apparently at 2, our son already enjoys watching grown men dress up in padded clothing and try to kill each other. Ah, the testosterone.

As I was putting the boy to bed last night, he wanted to watch "f'ball." While I enjoyed listening to Harry Connick Jr. sing the National Athem (Who doesn't love Harry Connick Jr? If you don't, don't tell me.), I kept hearing a little voice in my lap say, "F'ball? F'ball?" Finally the boy got to see some football and he was happy. But when the camera cuts away from the action, he's right there, telling them to get back to the good stuff.
I felt the need to explain to him that it was the Steelers and Titans playing, and that we couldn't cheer for the yellow and black team, for they were evil for having stolen the record for the most Super Bowl wins from the Cowboys. Hey, it's part of his education.

Husband was watching a game the other night with the boy. I heard Husband say, “Yes!” and then a sweet little echo of, “Yeash!”

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