I learned this week that Las Vegas is not a great place for children with a penchant for reading billboards. Case in point: Lexi pointed out the Blue Man Group, after which Ellie pointed at a sign advertising the Chippendales and shouted, “Look! It’s the Naked Man Group!”
I know there’s a box of Cadbury Cream Eggs around here somewhere. I just can’t find where I hid it.
There is nothing like sitting on an airplane that’s rocking back and forth and dipping up and down in alarming ways and realizing that you can only hold on to two of your three children.
It’s pretty amazing how two places can be as different and Oregon and Southern Utah and still both be so beautiful in their own way.
Why can’t we all just get along?
I’m so glad my kids aren’t picky eaters.
Why is it that no matter how nice other people’s beds are, nothing ever compares to my own bed and pillow?
I’m trying to figure out when I became the black sheep in my family.
Where, oh where are my Cream Eggs?