If only a stick of deodorant did not have to bid its farewell by breaking off startlingly into moist, powdery chunks all over the sink and floor, leaving the empty plastic shell to scrape unpleasantly against the armpit.
Rob said he had a dream about lemon toothpaste. The next time I went to the store, I blew his little mind by bringing home a tube of that very thing. I tried it and thought it was pretty good, like lemon drops. Weird flavor for toothpaste, but not bad. Then Paul said he thought it tasted like Lemon Pledge, and the next time I used it I realized he was absolutely right. It tastes like Lemon Pledge.
Now that we have a large freezer, we are getting better at going grocery shopping once a week rather than twice or even thrice, but the bananas don't work on this system: they're eaten up by the second or third day, but if we buy extras they go bad before we can use them, and I only want to make so many banana muffins/fritters.
Tomorrow I have an ultrasound to take a look at the placenta previa situation from the ultrasound I had in mid-January. I am glad to be getting this looked at, because then I can either stop worrying or else I can start worrying in earnest, rather than this silly worry limbo where I'm feeling like I could be worrying over something that would turn out to be nothing, not that that's an unusual situation for me, considering how often I worry about how I'd cope if Cujo were outside my minivan.
I haven't been posting separate Digging Ourselves Out entries because my projects have been so very, very dull and unphotoworthy, but that doesn't seem to be changing so I'll mention what I did today. We have a recliner too short for the vacuum cleaner to fit under the edges. From the chair in the kitchen where I feed the twins, I can see right directly under that chair, and the accumulation of dirt was bugging me. I moved the recliner and vacuumed under it.
Also, our dustbuster had been making me feel sad and low. We bought it to replace one that I used all the time until it finally broke, but we'd had this new one only a few months when it started seeming as if I might as well turn it on its back and stick the Cheerios one by one into the little slot. I was feeling grouchy about having made an expensive purchase that turned so useless so soon. Then I thought maybe it would help to use a little brush to brush out what looked like little lint-clogged holes. As I was doing that, I thought, Hey, this part looks like it snaps off. Snapping it off revealed practically an entire cat curled around the filter. This dustbuster has a different design than our old one, and evidently there is a filter that is supposed to be cleaned. After I cleaned it, the dustbuster's strength was so restored it nearly suctioned itself to the floor. So that is happy.
But you see how those tasks are difficult to assign, per se. Well, how about this: spend 5 minutes or less doing a small cleaning task that is bugging you every time you see it unclean. And if you have a dustbuster, and it has a filter, clean the filter. There!
Life-improving products, part 4 - (Continued from part 1, part 2, and part 3.) Stearns Youth Life Vest (photo from Amazon.com). I’d been too scared to take the kids to any body of water oth...