Pan Dulce

Poor, poor, Sissy.
This Friday we took my niece, Clarisa, for a sleepover. It was Karina's first slumber party. As a treat we took the girls to the Carniceria and they each got to pick a piece da bread.

Karina picked a huge cupcake. It had strawberry jam in the middle, and red and white frosting on top. We only let her have a piece and save the rest for later. She stored it neatly in a tupperware. I had no idea that she put it in the snack cabinet instead of the fridge.

JJ, apparently knew.
Or he sniffed it out. I am seriously amazed at how quickly the tide can turn from... *allowing him to pull things out of the cabinet to keep him busy while I use bleach* ... to... this...


I know it is difficult to see... but I wanted to immortalize how he was so excited about this most delicious find that his bottoms were actually drenched with drool.

Please note the strawberry jam on the cabinet.

Sissy is going to be so mad when she finds out.

and the time is 3:41 a.m.

My sister-in-law, Jessica posted that reading list from the BBC that has been going around the blogosphere.

It is a list of 100 books, mostly classics. The BBC reports that most people have only read as many as six of those books.

Apparently I have much reading to do because I have only read 17 of the 100 books listed.

In my defense, that seems to be fairly average compared to many of my friends that have posted their own lists.

In my offense, it annoys me that "The Agony and the Ecstasy" by Irving Stone was not on that list. I read it for my high school English class and it should count as two books - one for it's length and one for it's painfully boring content. The book is all about the Agony of having to read it to write a reasonable paper on it and the Ecstasy of getting a C.

I really love to read. But it seems like lately the only things that will capture my attention are those shiny magazines. I have not made room in my schedule for my old friend the book. I have been uninspired.

I have horrifying news. The next few sentences are not for the faint of heart... so you may want to look away. A friend of mine, incredibly excited about Twilight, urged me to borrow her very precious copy and read it... then call her in the morning and tell her what I thought. I read the first three chapters that night. The next day... I could only do three more. Then I was done. While I was reading it I found it very easy to think of other things I should be doing instead. Not a good endorsement from me.

Of course, Until I have whittled down that BBC list a bit, I have little credibility.

I have started reading with the Book Club in my ward. The first two selections were good. Last month we readNow this book... I loved. This was a fabulous story. I could not put it down.

A very generous friend loaned me the sequel.

So good, in fact, that I am up at 3:41 to get some work done in the house (and apparently on my blog) so that I can read more during nap time.

If it behooved me...

I would stand by the front door and wait.
Arms folded. Foot tapping.
Staring the door down.
But it does not. So I will blog my meanness away.

Hilarious happy husband is not healthy. He has a stomach virus. He must have gotten it from JJ because he is doing all of the same icky things as JJ... and with that we will keep his privacy in tact.

He was up well into the "middle of the night" ... suffering.

This morning, right on cue, he dragged himself out of bed. He shuffled to the bathroom, steadied himself, readied himself and out the door he went.

In all of the (almost) nine years we have been together - not one single sick day. Not one. Before we were together, he was on his mission. He says that he and his comp stayed home sick one day... because they both ate something bad. Not surprising on a mission.

I am proud of him, but I find this awfully irritating. SUPPOSEDLY he is just going to open the shop and get the guys started... if it behooved me, I would stand at the door... believing he will be home in less than an hour.

I would take a picture of him in his shirt but he looks a tad disheveled. In an effort to prove to me that he might actually come home he wore this instead of his button down:

Stinkin' Economy

Well, if you receive an invitation, you would hope that it was for something worth spending your time on. I figured I should post something spectacular. But, alas, I lack the inspiration for spectacular so you will have to settle for brilliance instead.

Hilarious Happy Husband has the cleanest language you could possibly imagine. He has met some Utah members that he thinks should have their mouth's washed out with Lava soap. Much to his shame and embarrassment, his wife is known to use words that make her look like a drunken, Navy truck driver with Tourettes... like (spell it out for the kidd-o's) S-T-U-P-I-D and other colorful phrases.

That said, Guero has been going to work every day with lunches prepared by moi. He has his favorite things to eat but they have to be adapted for budget considerations. I make him burritos for breakfast with Turkey hot dogs, mostly egg whites and salsa. For lunch he has turkey sandwiches, half a slice of muenster, half of an avocado and mustard. Every day. Same thing. The only occasional break in this routine is leftovers from the night before that he really loves.

It makes me recall an incident when I started college. The first few days were marked with the worst torrential downpour I can possibly remember. Forecasters were blaming it on a tropical phenomenon called "El Nino".

On my way to my first class on the first day of school I wore a brand new outfit and brand new shoes. I trudged, ankle deep through murky water. I was already keeping quite a pace for being so water logged, when lightening struck the building that I was walking next to. I think that was the loudest sound that one could hear without becoming deaf. It was at that point that I broke out into a full on run, arriving at my first Economics class with squeaky new shoes and wet textbooks.

Later that day, a friend of mine came into our dorm from the rain. She was soaked to the bone. She cursed the rain. It was a hysterical moment, but I will keep it PG. She said, "*Stinkin'* El Nino"!

We laughed and laughed because we definitely felt that she put the blame squarely where it belonged... on the head of a grouchy hispanic boy throwing a torrential temper tantrum.

I imagine my husband, an often grouchy hispanic boy who is never torrential, opening his lunch today. Lacking the enthusiasm he might have for leftover "chicken surprise"... he finds turkey sandwiches again.

"*Stinkin'* Economy"

Husband, when things are better, I will make you Steak (turkey dog) and (no Yolk) egg burritos for breakfast, and for lunch I will give you a whole slice of muenster on your Costco brand Turkey.

Thank you Stinkin' economy for making it possible to feed my husband something healthy and not have to take any responsibility for thinking of it myself.


P.S. Happy Birthday, Tito! Karina wants to make you some cupcakes!

I'm a safety girl

bad news
with so many adoring fans, this will be hard...
But I have decided to go privado.

For all five of you that read my blog - let me know if you want me to add your email so that you can continue to be part of the fan club.

This is your one week warning.

remember, it is not you... it's... them.