Santa Monica

I keep sitting down at the computer thinking that I should write about our trip to Santa Monica on Sunday. It just isn't happening.

I was up late listening to an unnamed person talk about our growing up years. Some might wonder why I don't ever mention my other sister here on this blog. Well the wondering is over! It's because this particular sister is extremely private and would hate having anything out there floating around in the interweb that involved her or her family. The bummer of this is that I live with her at the moment and most of what happens with me, my husband and my kids happens with someone from her family being involved. That has kind of put a crimp in my blog fodder. Is it just me or would that be an awesome name for a Daddy Blog? Fodder... Father - does this not work for anyone else? Tales From a Blog Fodder or something like that? Someone has probably already used it. Excuse me as I google it...

Yup, somebody has used it. I still maintain that it would be great for a Daddy Blog. Oh well, back to blogging. Sister. Private. Not really down with the blogging.

Anyway. My hair is lovely if I do say so myself. I loved my sister's stylist. Loved her! She was amazing - not only in that she made me like my hair again and was totally sweet about my not knowing exactly what I wanted to do (when do I ever?) - she was juggling clients. I have never in my life seen someone handle 3 completely different colors/highlights/cuts/etc. at one time. She kept everything timed perfectly, was downright adorable and affordable. This trip to the stylist was a gift from my sister (not that one - I just said I promised not to talk about her, the other one).

Little does my sister know that I paid back her kindness while she was gone with... well, there is no other way to say it... this is about to turn into a poop story. My sister, her husband and their youngest A-4 left town for a couple of days for a retreat or something along those lines. My mom is being Super Gramma and taking care of the other kids while mom and dad are out of town. My family all descended on their house yesterday because I was in their town to get my hair done - anybody lost yet? I should have Jon put together a guide to understanding Janelle or something. Alright. Back to the story. We had finished up dinner, the kids had all gone to the wind, mom and I were cleaning up in the kitchen and Jon was on the computer.

Jon: Does anybody smell something?
Me: Yeah, kinda.
Jon: Where's Liam?
Me: I don't know, but I'll go look.

I walk down a hall, sniffing and following the scent all the way until Liam comes into view.

Me: Liam!
Liam: I smell good. (He so didn't)
Me: (laughing) Go tell Daddy that.

Upon investigation we realized that the one time our son decided to use the bathroom and not make a big ordeal out of it had to be when he needed to go poopy in the potty. Jon took Liam to dump him in the bath and I took over cleaning duties in the bathroom. (For those of you who have seen the movie Desperado - it was kind of a toned down version of the bathroom in the bar that was the secret entrance of the money room.*) I think Jon may have gotten the better end of the deal - If you asked him, he might not agree though - so let's just not ask him...

I scrubbed that toilet down and choked the household with a giant Lysol cloud - leaving it cleaner than well, cleaner.

*This is the first that my sister (Hi. I love you!) will have heard about it. I'm not sure if she'll continue to let me use her in my blog or not now.