Roots wear, Chickens, and 24 is now a good number

Frankly, I'm sick to the death of those damn chickens. But they can keep The Goose occupied for quite some time. Here he is in his Canadian ROOTS hooded sweatshirt. We're leaving for Austin tomorrow and if we weren't then I might be headed south to Costa Rica to work at a petting zoo (where at least there I know everyone's name). This mommy stuff is hard, hard work folks. Don't let those playground mommies fool you. They go home and they collapse into heaps of running eye make-up and Target mommy clothes, just like me. They yell ridiculous things at their Husbands ... like, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. ALL OF IT!" But they put on that pretty park face and say, "Isn't it great when they're toddling around and not crawling anymore?!??!"

And they're right.

Sometimes.

I just wrote a Goose Bumps post that included the line, "The Devil Wears Gymboree," in case you're interested in reading more about happenings at public parks with playgrounds.

This morning we awakened to find sack of 24, count 'em, twenty-four, veinte cuatro CDs outside our front door. One of the other rangers has a Husband who works at a record label. He knows Reba, people. He's met her. He put one of her CDs in the mix, but did you read what I wrote? TWENTY FOUR CDs! In a sack on our front porch. I was just saying the other day that we need to get some new CDs and LO! THE LORD GOD HATH PROVIDETH. Ask and you shall receive!

Previously I viewed the number 24 as a "bad" number, given that it is four sixes. And everyone knows that three sixes is the mark of the beast. But now I've had a REVELATION. HA HA HA. If you got that, then yay for you ... you must have been Baptist at some point in this life or another.

We're off to Texas tomorrow. Pappaw is in the hospital. I don't have anything else to say.