On days like today. . .

I really, really miss my favorite car ever. It was the first "new" car Kev and I bought together, and we had it over 10 years. And I seriously want it back. . .

Sometimes being a responsible adult is not all it's cracked up to be. . .

my stinky child

What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails,
That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice
And all that's nice,
That's what little girls are made of.

We've all heard the rhyme. I always thought it was a little bit of a disservice to little boys, but what do I know. . .After having a little boy AND a little girl, I can attest to the fact that they are completely different. Kyler is definitely ALL boy. And that? That can mean stinky, smelly, and gross.

I once again have a horrible smell emanating from my car. (The most embarrassing part of that sentence is the "once again".) Anyway, the last time I had this odor in my car, I found a mildewed, dirty, icky sock crammed way back under Kyler's seat. I'm still trying to locate this smell. . .As to what little boys are made of, I can't be sure, but I can assure you the smell is reproachable.

if only I were kidding. . .

Today was a day like any other. We were headed to work/babysitter. Both kids were in their little worlds. I was driving slowly and cautiously [clears throat] down the dirt road. (My mom reads this.)

Then, Kyler saw a turtle. Before I could truly get stopped, he was out of the car and running to the turtle (or terrapin, if you prefer). He talked me into letting him take it to the babysitter to show the other kids. Then, we were to turn the turtle loose. . .

I expected the turtle to ride peacefully in the floorboard of my car. I didn't expect a wild, out-of-control rock-star turtle who would trash my car. What I got was this. . .

(Don't look at the dirty carpet!)

That would be a mountain of turtle poop. I decided (not knowing the best way to clean turtle poop up) that it might be best to let it dry, and then vacuum and scrub the mess up, lest I smear turtle poop everywhere (eewwwwww!).

Yep, that's my life. . . and this afternoon I might trade places with you. . . if anyone is interested in cleaning up turtle poop.

Deer, Deer, Deer, Deer, Deer, Deer

I hit a deer. Relax. We're ok, and it's actually been several weeks since it happened. We were driving home at dusk one night. I saw a deer and began stopping. Before I could get stopped, another deer ran in front of my car. I had time to say deer about 6 times before we hit it. I really did not hit it that hard, but it hit square on my bumper/grill area and bounced back on the road. I pulled over and jumped out. My grill (2 pieces), bumper and headlight housing were broken. About that time, the deer came to, jumped up, and ran off.

It was all very surreal, especially when it came to my kids. Kyler (the mighty hunter) was crying because he was afraid the deer would die a long, slow, painful death from his internal injuries. Kady on the other hand, had her hand shaped like a gun and was "shooting" pretend deer. I think my daughter might be practicing to be a poacher. . .

PS The damage came to $2,600.00. My insurance company hates me. My body shop loves me.

PPS The headlight on my car costs way more than the bumper or grill. Does anyone else find that odd--especially considering the headlight itself wasn't broken??