I dreamed that I accidentally slept through Halloween

which sounds about right. this week at least.

ps: Sam lost his SECOND tooth today. I was sleeping and he woke me up and handed it to me. It was covered with sandwich.

Tooth Fairy! Take Note!

I know the recession has you understaffed. And the fact that Utah has a birth rate on par with third world countries doesn't help, either.

But we have another house to add to your list.

Certain Offspring here have begun shedding their incisors.

Look for this box:

Inside it, you will find a tooth that looks like this:



If you wouldn't mind exchanging this piece of human history for whatever coinage is the current going rate, there'll be a very exuberant little six year old living here.

give my regards to the Easter Bunny.

hugs and kisses.

Things students will do for paper extensions:

create super awesome sculptures of SWILUA out of Starbust candy!

You know that book Frog and Toad?

The sweet one with the two amphibian BFF's?

This picture sort of reminds me of it.

(that's Sam and his cousin Charlie. in our misty cool backyard.)

Things students will do for paper extensions:

dress like a gangsta tigger:

bake and bring us all shortbread:

and bring me something called "poop soap on a rope." which left me speechless. truly.

I broke the "no online shopping on Ambien" rule and officially ordered the pee cream.

exciting, right?!

if you want a bottle, the cost came out to be $5.67/bottle plus however much it costs to ship it to you.

kisses.

It's PEE CREAM TIME!

So many of y'all were interested in the pee cream. And I feel really bad that the only link was to a 12 pack. They do have some other single products, but none had the exact product number. Which is important, because I did a test with the "active" ingredient--which is petroleum; aka Vaseline--and I put Vaseline on my heels for a week to see if it did the same thing. And it didn't. Not even close. So that means that it's the *inactive* ingredients that are making the magic--maybe in combo with the petroleum? But in any event you don't want to risk getting the wrong "inactive" ingredients by ordering something with a different product number. Because they may think it's the same thing, and it may work great for, yanno, incontinence, since it's the "active" ingredient that takes care of that. But we're prescribing off label here, people.

To sum up: I'll take the hit and order the 12 pack myself. If you're interested in one of the bottles, I'll give it to you at cost. Just email me. kerryspencer [at] byu [dot] edu.

Okay, people. Whose God WAS that? Seriously!

Y'all remember how ON FRIDAY (it was Saturday when I meant to start this post, due to the fact that it's 12:30AMish on Sunday right now, that WOULD have been only YESTERDAY if I'd done my blogging on time. but I digress) on just this FRIDAY I posted a call for people to pray to whatever kind of God they wanted (I was desperate; desperation leads to open-mindedness) for my open wounds to friggin start to close and not be open anymore already.

Here's the thing.

Overnight, they shrunk more than HALF. In HALF, people! OVERNIGHT. (in HALF!)

And these are wounds that had not shrunk at ALL for more than THREE WEEKS. And this happened OVERNIGHT. Within ONE DAY of asking y'all to pray.

So I want to know: Whose God was it?

So far our only confessors are my SIL, Barb (most of us know her religion) and my blog pal Majato whose body is his temple and whose religion is his beer.

Fess up. Conversion is on the table.

And also, thanks for praying. To all your Gods.

See, I'm just too lazy to be a billionaire.

They gave me this one ointment for my graft--they said that it might help any irritation. And it wasn't so bad. Not great. But not bad.

But it turns out that there was something better that it did.

I don't know what made me try it. Genius, maybe. But I put it on my *heels.* And something amazing happened. My heels went from looking like this:

to looking like this:

Seriously, people. My heels look good.

OMG, I thought. I could sell this stuff and be a BILLIONAIRE. Because nothing has ever, not even once, made my heels look this good. And I've tried *everything.* Because who wants to be the lady with the bad looking heels? I used to judge those ladies in my head all the time. And then I was one. And there was nothing I could do about it. Until the magic cream came along.

One problem:

The cream is actually *incontinence* cream. i.e., it's meant to help protect your skin from your *pee.*

That's right. IT'S PEE CREAM.

Which means that to be a billionaire, I'd have to either convince people that it's not gross to buy and use buckets full of pee cream, or I'd have to, like, do a massive re-branding thing. Or something. I actually have no idea. Which is probably why I am most definitely NOT a billionaire.

So, lazy girl that I am, I'll just give you the Amazon link. And since I get like 1% of whatever anyone spends when they buy something (anything!) after clicking a link from my blog, you could help me make $0.50. And, also, you'll have really amazing looking heels. Which is almost as good as being a billionaire, right?




ps: Just so you know, in two years I have made $2.35 from Amazon links! Oh, yeah, baby.

pps: sorry that the link is to a 12-pack. That was the only link that had the exact product number that I have on my bottle. but the cream is totally worth it and you'll use the 12-pack, I promise.

[post edit ppps: after I bought the cream they changed the price to $140! it probably is *that* magical, but WTF? good thing I ordered early.][but bad thing that I was going to buy another box for christmas presents. $50ish I can do. Not $140, though.]

I *think* this may be the same product, just a bigger size:

Steve says I should blog because I haven't blogged since, like, *Monday.*

There's a simple reason: I'm stoopid now. The first time I wrote blogged up in the title, for example, I spelled it bloggled. And it looked right.

The nice thing about being stoopid is that it means I'm not in pain.

The bad thing is, I'm not cranky enough to post rants. Which is kind of a bummer because I've got a modesty rant brewing.

I guess we'll have to wait until I'm less stoopid.

If you desire, send up a prayer to your own preferred divine being (depending, of course, on your personal faith traditions). Tell them that Dr. S is tired of having big fat open wounds. She is tired of looking at her skin graft and wondering when it will stop buzzing. (Yes, it buzzes. A nerve thing, I think. Or they implanted an alien device on me. Also a possibility.) And so Dr. S humbly requests that the skin graft close up, the buzzing stop, the stoopidness be tapered down, and life be calm and happy and full of blog posts and stuff.

Here's a funny thing: I think I might try to do yoga next week. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!