Happy Birthday Karl and Emma!
Stampin' Up! O Christmas Tree die projects

If I could just remember to buy one of those memory improvement games . . .

So I just had a birthday a couple of weeks ago. It was right before the CHA trade show, and I had bought a couple of new outfits and shoes for the trip, so I told John not to get me anything for my birthday except for one thing . . . a Snuggie. I knew that it would be an act of love if he would actually buy it for me. He has a problem with Snuggies on principle . . . he thinks they're stupid. In fact, when I announced that I wanted one, his response was "NO! I'm not buying one of those things!" and then he handed me his Blackberry and told me to watch this video:

Snuggie  (warning - not for kids)

John snuggieAnd actually, he didn't buy it for me until just last weekend, when we were coming home from a hike and I drove into the Walgreens parking lot and kicked him and the kids out of the van and said "Don't come back without my present!" I snapped a picture of him while driving home:

Now you might be wondering why I would need a Snuggie in the middle of summer when the temperature is 90 degrees every day, but here's the thing - winter will come again! And when it does, and I'm on the couch watching a million TV shows as I always do, I will not have to choose between warmth and a bowl of Cheeto's. Happy Birthday to me, suckers!

And all of this has nothing to do with the subject of my blog post, which is sort of the point.

Because with every passing year, I seem to be getting more and more absent-minded. Or at least I think I am . . . I may have been absent-minded ten years ago but I simply can't remember. (see what I did there?)

Case in point: I was sitting here at the kitchen island doing some work when an e-mail came in from John. We are going to squeeze in a last-minute family summer vacation at a cabin in the woods and he needed me to send a check to the owner of the cabin.

Now I write very few checks anymore. I love the convenience and security of online banking, so that's how I pay all my bills. However, I was rather proud of myself that I knew exactly where to find some forever stamps, return-address labels, and the checkbook. The envelope to mail the check required a trip to the basement, though, so I got up from the kitchen island and walked five feet over to the basement stairs. The staircase is not a long or winding staircase - it is straight, with a normal amount of steps, and offers a clear view of my objective - the cabinet at the bottom of the stairs where the envelopes are stored. This really should have been a straightforward task.

But somehow over the course of 14 steps, my focus shifted to a bottle of Zip Dry that was sitting on the floor near the kids' computer. I frowned. Zip Dry is liquid gold as far as I'm concerned. I knew how it got there - Emma thought she could repair a flip-flop - one of a long string of destroyed flip-flops- that has been chewed apart by our particularly disobedient dog. Even Zip Dry is no match for Lucy,  though, which Emma quickly discovered and the flip-flops ended up in the trash. Still, she did not return the glue and thus I was frowning.

Envelope promptly forgotten, I grabbed the bottle of glue and headed to my office. Once there, I glanced around at the chaos and tried to decide if I could compact the mess enough to make a project without having to clean first. I decided that I probably could, and was at the point of pulling my stool over when I realized that I wasn't supposed to be crafting - I was supposed to be doing . . . something else.

So I came back up the stairs and had a brainstorm . . . diet coke! That was it! This morning I had noticed that I was out of cold cokes in the fridge and needed to replenish before lunch. I went to the garage and got a handful, proud that I would not have to ice my coke come lunchtime.

Putting the cokes in the fridge put me face-to-face with leftover birthday cake from my kids' birthday yesterday. Mmmm. Mid-morning cake sound good! I pulled out the cake, got a plate from the dishwasher, told myself that after cake I would unload the dishwasher, cut myself a small reasonable piece, put the cake away, ate my small reasonable piece, got the cake back out, cut myself a much larger less reasonable but infinitely more satisfying piece, wolfed that down, put the cake away, put the plate in the sink, forgot about the dishwasher, and sat down at my computer.

Oh crud. I forgot the envelope!

Lather, rinse, repeat.

RKQOTD (as reported by Tara when she and her dog Sunny were visiting Bonnie and Karl was over there for a sleepover with Bonnie's son Karl: Is Sunny a shy dog? Tara: No, Karl, she's just tired from jogging. Karl: How far do you jog? Tara: This morning I jogged three miles and Sunny went with me. I'm thinking of taking it to four. Karl: It's good that you jog. Coronary heart disease is the failure of the coronary circulation to supply adequate circulation to cardiac muscle and the surrounding tissue. It's the most common form of disease affecting the heart and one of the leading causes of premature death for women in the United States. Tara: Well I have heard about that. Karl: But nothing can save you if someone riding in a car throws a poisoned-tipped dart out of the window and it hits you in the eye. You're pretty much dead at that point. Tara: I'll keep that in mind.)

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