Seven Things I Am Thinking About (August Edition)

I am up late because my kids won't go to sleep.  Nothing is new under the sun, right?  Sigh. 

ONE:
Why does fried rice keep multiplying?  I start with maybe 3 cups of veggies and 2 cups of rice.  Stir fry it with some sesame oil and a couple of scrambled eggs and it becomes a BUSHEL of fried rice.  This happens EVERY time.  I try to watch it, to see when the transformation occurs, but I have never yet witnessed it.  Bushels of veggie fried rice. 

TWO:
My son apparently tried to be helpful recently.  How, you ask?  Well, in the mornings, I'd get up and go to brush my teeth.  I'd notice that my brush was kind of hard and crusty.  "Wow."  I'd mentally mumble, "Is it possible I was so tired last night that I actually forgot to rinse the brush? Ew!!"  But, due to my low mental functioning in the morning, I'd forget about it immediately.  THen the next and -- and the day after that -- I'd find the same thing.  Finally, one night I noticed my 7 year old son was in the bathroom after his lights were out.  I peeked in and saw him BRUSHING with MY TOOTHBRUSH.  I said, "HONEY! What are you doing? That's my toothbrush! Yours is the green one!"  He smiled and said, "But, Mama, I'm just putting the toothpaste on and working it in for you for tomorrow!"
::Shudder::

THREE:
There was dog poop in the basement today.  Same son stepped in it and then walked across the whole basement and up to the kitchen where he then TOLD me about the poop.  Poop footprints, anyone?  ::shudder, again::

FOUR:
My daughter (aged 10) made lipgloss today.  Out of Vaseline and eye shadow.  I have found disgusting globs of it all over the kitchen and bathroom.  It looks disturbingly like mucous.  And not the kind that you're gonna see come out of your eyes, nose, or mouth.  Yeah. 

FIVE:
Having a fan going in a room is nice.  Problem is, if it is directed straight at me, it makes me sleeeepy.  Why is that, I wonder....

SIX:
I have never successfully done a backbend. 

SEVEN:
I used to think that liking horseradish was an old-man thing.  I now love it.  Perhaps I'll call myself Harold from now on.