We Need a Hooker

Last night I was informed by my 3 year old that we need to buy a hooker. When I asked where I might find one, he told me to check Target. I’ve not looked for a hooker at Target so I had no right to dismiss his suggestion and will check the next time I go. After peeking in his room to see why he might need a hooker, I realized he was standing in a pile of baseball hats, trying to hang them on the four hooks on the back of his door. Clearly, he needs more than just a few hookers.

Speaking of hookers, or at least the way the media likes to portray the women in the lives of men in politics who aren’t legally married to the married men, I am amused by the news coverage of John Edward’s “mistress” and possible mother of his “love child”. I appreciate the media’s consideration in emphasizing that his love affair occurred between his wife’s bouts with cancer. Noble. I’m not sure how this helps him given the average American pouring over news reports of this man who might have been President.

What if Edwards had won the Democratic nomination? What if this "news" had been leaked on November 3rd? Could America forgive this man? Apparently not. As I read through one story after another about this cheating, morally corrupt, good-for-nothing… you get the point. No- he will not be forgiven. What makes it particularly messy is the possible pay off to keep the “mistress” quiet. Not terribly original, but we do love a messy affair with scandal and suspense. Just not when it comes to our political leaders. We certainly are a self-righteous group of voters.

And back to the 3 year old's dilemma. I wonder if hookers come in a variety of colors and sizes. I'll need to look into this further at Target.

Smelling the Roses

My three year old stopped to smell the roses. Literally. Deep purple roses. He stood on tip-toe for a long sniff. Stopping to smell the roses. Imagine that.

Temper, Temper.

I lost my temper and kicked a file cabinet the other night. It wasn’t the wisest thing to do. I rarely lose my temper in an overtly physical way and this incident was particularly costly. The inside of my foot is not black and blue; rather, more of a deep purple and red and incredibly tender. My big toe hurts to wiggle. I thought by the third day the swelling would go down, but it still hurts to walk.

My timing was off. I’m supposed to be training for a 10K and couldn’t imagine running with my foot in its current state. I forced it into my running shoe yesterday to see how it felt. Not good.

My family is not the screaming, kicking and throwing type. We let things fester. My mom lost her temper once. She hurled a coffee cup, hot coffee included, at my dad. She missed and the cup shattered against the wall, leaving a black stain down the side of the wall to the carpet. The stain was removed within the hour and we moved on. They joke about it today.

I ran four miles this morning and cursed my lack of control with each step. This afternoon I watched my boys race down the sidewalk and would typically be running right behind them- but not today.

Temper, temper.