Toddlers, Tiaras and Honey Boo Boo, child...

For the past few months, I have spent most nights watching the entire series of Desperate Housewives... my guilty little pleasure.  But then the worst thing happened on Wednesday night- I watched the last episode on Netflix!  But, before devastation set in, I flipped through the channels on TV and ran across possibly the most dreadful thing I have ever seen.  Toddlers and Tiaras.  Really?  Let me dress up my infant, who can not walk, in a stripper inspired outfit AND fake teeth- because of coarse, she doesn't have any of her own, and baby gums are not allowed.  After I'm finished, I will add 4 pounds of make up and glitter, you know, so she will stand out in the crowd.  Then, I'm going to slap the most ridiculous looking curled wig I can find on her poor little head and add another can of hairspray to keep it all together.  Finally, I'm going to parade her around looking like a miniature drag queen, while I am dressed like a homeless person (since I spent our family's money on pageants and dresses).  But, don't worry- I will support her head, because she sure can't hold it up any more!

Of course, this whole spectical is good for her, because she will learn to embrace her imperfections, by covering them up with fake tans and artificial nails and eyelashes.  She will also learn to deal with defeat, by kicking, crying and screaming when she doesn't get her way.  And, we will teach her how to finish what you start by screaming at her for wanting to quit and then jacking her up on pixi sticks and mountain dew mixed with red bull.  I'm sorry, I meant pageant crack and go go juice.

And when it's all over, and she's the mature age of 6, we will have ourselves a sweet little angel, worthy of having her own show on TLC- just like Honey Boo Boo, child.

Where can I sign up?

Which One of these is not like the other...

So, for the past few weeks I have noticed that my wrist has an interesting little bump on it- not too huge, but it's there. See the difference?

Then last week, it started to ache.  A little at first, and then a little more.  So, I googled it (PS- Google is my best friend!) It's a cyst... great!  The nickname is "Bible Bump".  So, I thought, that doesn't sound too terrible.  I mean, something you get from reading the Bible too much can't be a BAD thing!  Like God is going to punish me for using my Bible?? 

Boy, was I wrong... the nickname isn't based on how you get the cyst- it's how you get rid of it!  OH LORDY!!!  Before we were blessed with modern medicine, pain relievers, and microscopic tools to perform laser surgery, if you had a ganglion cyst, you would take the heaviest book you had at home (usually your family bible) and SMASH it down on the cyst so that it would rupture.  UMMM- I don't think so!  The only other alternative is to have it surgically removed which has a 40ish percent rate of returning, and a 100% chance of leaving a massive scar on my arm.  Of coarse, I can always choose to live with it and use it as a reminder that if I had been using my family Bible as literature or some sort of, oh I don't know, life how to manual instead of a book end- maybe just maybe I wouldn't be growing another thumb out of my left wrist....

Food for thought.