My (Modern) Day in Pictures...

OK, so all that 80's talk was fun, but on more than one occasion today, I was snapped back into reality that we are now in 2006 and I have a husband and 2 "spirited" kids.

The truth is, we did a lot today and got a ton of stuff done. But I don't feel like blogging about it. So instead, I'm going to post a few pictures, provide you with a brief explanation, and hit the Publish Post button.

So here's a picture of Grace, actually from yesterday, when she strapped herself into our baby swing and walked around like this for a half hour. I will say this once again. That kid's just not right...

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Next is Hannah. This is how her and I spent our evening. I painted her nails and then she painted mine. (Please excuse my skanky ass feet in the picture.) Such concentration on the poor girl's face. She really does look like she's diffusing a bomb, doesn't she?

(Did I mention that a 2-year-old doesn't really "stay in the lines" when painting nails and that I don't own any nail polish remover? Yeah. Nice.)

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And last but not least, we've got kitchen talk. So tonight was the night. The night we finally got to use at least a portion of kitchen, and cook on the stove top. Steve had both sausage and a hunk of salmon defrosted. He assumed I'd be eating some sausage. Nuh uh. No way dude... That's gross.

THIS, my dear husband, is what I want as my first official cooked meal in our long awaited kitchen...

That's right, folks. I wanted "dippy eggs" (i.e., eggs over-easy for those of you not raised in a Pennsylvania Dutch community where you use childish names for food). I haven't had a fried egg in almost a year and I fucking missed them. So that's what I ordered, and that's what my darling husband made me. And ya know what? Tomorow morning, I'm going to fire up the sucker again and make myself some scrambled eggs. And then I'm going to slather them in ketchup and savor every bite.

And yes, those are my actual eggs in that picture, and yes, that is all butter. I love butter. I adore it. And we cook with it. A lot. Get over it, healthnuts. My food tastes better than yours, so nanny nanny boo boo to you.