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My dearest Wellington,

It has been nearly a year that you’ve been with us now.  And what a year it has been!

Firstly, I must say that you’ve been quite the trouper from the get-go. When I made the reservations for the annual all-family camping trip, I had to make them 9 months in advance to get a good camp site. If I had know you would be joining us for the trip I would have probably put it off for at least another month or two. But I did not know. And then you were a reality and our reservations weren’t until the next year and well, I didn’t really put it all together until May rolled around.

I waited and waited. But, as I have discovered with everything else, you were determined to do it your own way. By the time you made up your mind to join us, we only had two weeks left (Just so that we’re on the same page for future reference though sweetheart, an entire week is nowhere near “fashionably late”)

I figured that I could at least stay at your Grandma’s house and visit with the rest of the family at the campsite during the day. But, to my surprise, you were happy to be outside and quite comfortable sleeping in the tent. I worried my ass off and yet you slept soundly. (more…)

Dear Catherine Hardwicke,

Seriously?

The book was 498 pages long.

From pages 423 to 452 there is a bit about a fiend that wants to kill Isabella Swan because he is an actual blood sucking jackass vampire.

The rest of the story is all teen hormones and “oh-I-love-him/her-so-much-s/he-just-doesn’t-understand”

Don’t get me wrong now, the 13 year old girl inside of me has already read the book three times. But seriously Ms Hardwicke, for a book that is literally steeped in unrequited teenage, virginal-vampire suck-face there is surprisingly little actual falling in love happening in your movie.

There is a lot of brooding (as there is in the book so I guess, good on ya there). There is a surfeit of scenery and there is a virtual cornucopia of eyebrows.

And yet I remain confused as to how the characters go from”Oh, it’s that chicky again. I think I’m gonna throw up” to “You are my own personal brand of heroin” and never really sit down and get all dreamy with each other. I mean, how do they flirt through all the eyebrows? (more…)

The Catfish is home sick today. I am with him. He is one snotty, coughing, watery mess. When he sneezed pretty hard and got all gooey again I told him not to use his arm but that I would go get him a tissue.

“Why?”

“So you can wipe up your nose.”

from the bathroom, tissue box in hand I hear this:

“BUT MOM!”

(experimental pause)

“I CAN JUST USE MY TONGUE AS A TISSUE!!!”

No son.

No you can’t.