Alice's Adventures Underground

Popcorn Ball

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sun, 19 May 2013 10:32:00 +0000

The last two weeks have been about as bi-polar as mother nature can get. We've had ninety degree days and nights when there kids couldn't sleep because it was too hot in the house and then a couple of days later, I'll have to turn the heat in the house back on because it's freezing at night. Still, it's been one of the prettiest Springs here in my memory so I'll take it. Anything to put off the oppressive heat of summer.

Blood Stained Tulip

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Thu, 16 May 2013 17:30:00 +0000

We are just at the tail end of tulip season here so I feel I still can get away with posting this even though the tulips in my yard all look like sad, headless horsemen all lined up in a row, waiting for their inevitable demise.

This isn't my favorite photo I've taken in the past month, but it does remind me that the last season of Dexter is coming up and soon I'll be spending many late nights glued to the computer with headphones over my ears so my kids don't wake up and try to watch with me.

Ah, nature.

Mother's Day Thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Wed, 15 May 2013 20:41:00 +0000

A week ago, one of the members of the Bishopric at church approached me and asked if I would be willing to speak in church that Sunday. Maybe it was because I'd been in town less than nine hours after a trip. Maybe it was because he admitted he asked about eight other people who had all said no and he was desperate. Either way, I was overcome with weakness and/or inability to invent a valid excuse and said sure.

Then about two seconds later, I smacked my forehead and said, "Oh wait, that's the Sunday of MOTHERS' DAY, isn't it?"

"Yeah, is something wrong with that? Are you out of town that day?"

Heavy sigh.

"No, I guess not," I whined.

"Do you not want to talk on that day?"

Heavy sigh.

"No, I can do it. It's okay."

"What's wrong?"

Heavy sigh.

"I just kinda hate the holiday is all. It's fine. I already said yes. I'll do it."

"What's your problem with Mothers' Day?" he asked, concerned.

I decided not to get into it and copped out. "Nothing really. I just think it's a schmaltzy holiday," I said and made a barfing noise.

He laughed and said, "Well then, tell me about it in your talk."

It's a nice thing when people trust you. I wouldn't have gotten that reaction from everyone after that kind of an exchange.

I really did wrestle with it all week. Mothers' Day at church tends to fall just short of deifying certain women and leaves all the rest out completely. It's one of my issues with the holiday. I tried to write something traditionally appropriate but in the end, well... I'm ME... and I cannot seem to say words that wouldn't normally come out of my mouth. So after throwing away the beginnings of many a version of a Mothers' Day sermon, I ended up going with what I know best: just treating the talk like my blog and speaking from the heart. It may not have been what they wanted or expected, but at least it was me. And if they didn't like it, well, then I might not have to speak in church ever again. Everyone wins.

It was actually a little bit amazing how many women came up to me that day and thanked me, which almost always started out with, "I hate Mothers' Day tooooo!" I had no idea I was in the majority on this one. But then one woman approached me and asked me for a copy of the talk to share with her daughter. She related an experience her daughter is going through, which made even me, cold-hearted harpy that I am, tear up a little.

I promised a couple of people I would post this, so I am doing that now. A warning if you don't like religious-y stuff, you might want to skip on by this post. I hereby grant you permission.

Some inside information most people at church aren't privy to: whenever The KingofHearts or I have to speak in church, there is always a secret challenge issued from the other person to use a word in the talk that would be difficult to incorporate. One time he was speaking and I challenged him to use "a pig in a poke" somewhere in his talk. One time he challenged me to use the word "Frankenstein." Yes, we are weird. Yes, it makes speaking in church so much more interesting. This time, my word was "hillbilly." Monica gave me a challenge too, but I hereby cede and declare myself unworthy and instead challenge her to use the word she suggested for me in a PTA meeting about the school curriculum.

Mothers’ Day Talk

Happy Mothers’ Day!

I don’t know about you all, but I was awakened to breakfast in bed on a fish-shaped plate with juice in a Mason jar. Because it wouldn’t be MY family if there wasn’t something weird about it… and because we are really just hillbillies at heart.

I have to confess to you that when I was asked to speak in church today, I said yes without really thinking. Then a second later, I came to the sudden realization that it this Sunday was going to be the Sunday of Mothers’ Day and I almost retracted my “yes.”

I have a difficult and complicated relationship with Mother's Day. It’s a holiday that makes me uncomfortable at best. My own mother had an irrational prejudice against Mother’s Day and I’m afraid she passed that right on down to me. (She passed a lot of irrational prejudices down to me, but this is the only one I’m going to confess to today.) It's not that I think it's a bad thing to celebrate motherhood... maybe it's just that this is a day that tends to get over celebrated and all the “if you love her, you’ll buy her diamonds” commercials on television make me worry that the diamond industry is trying to control my thoughts. Ultimately, my opinion is if you want to show your mother how much you love and appreciate her and you're only doing it once a year on a Hallmark holiday, you may have missed the point.

I happen to know I’m not alone. Mothers’ Day is difficult for a lot of people. Some of us might not fit into the traditional image of a mother. Some of us have painful memories that are brought up today. Some of us are just too tired from doing the laundry to even notice it’s Mothers’ Day. I think that one of the reasons my own mother disliked Mothers’ Day was that she said that it somehow made her feel “less than.” She often didn’t think she lived up to the task of parenthood. She felt like the rest of the world was perfect and she was the only non-ideal out there. Sometimes I feel like that too.

I guess another part of my uncomfortableness with the holiday - especially before I had children - is about not really internalizing that idea that we all are inherently mothers, no matter what our individual circumstances. We all affect one another’s lives in so many ways and that is a part of what makes our femalehood wonderful. Women can do so much in this day and age... I love that about the era in which I live. My girls and I have so many choices. But sometimes I forget that probably the most important choice I have ever made or will ever make is to af-fect and ef-fect the lives of other children, whether they’re mine or someone else's. As a therapist, I've gotten more experience than most, working to help children of others before I had children of my own. But nothing can prepare you for the depth and breadth of emotions and experiences you have when you realize a child depends on you as one of the sole examples of all that is good and right in the world. It's daunting. I guess that why I tend to eschew the label. I'd like for that to be someone else's responsibility. It's not someone else’s responsibility. But the good news is it's not just mine.

And, guess what Men, it doesn't just belong to one sex either.

We all matter in one another’s lives. Like Clarence said in It’s a Wonderful Life,

“Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?”

I came across this essay by a woman named Amy Young last week and I think it expresses a lot of what I want to say today:

The Wide Spectrum of Mothering.

To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you

To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you

To those who experienced loss this year through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you

To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.

We all fall into many of these categories, sometimes unwanted. Like my mother, like me, we all have anxiety about our roles. We feel pressure from family, friends, society…. We compare ourselves to others and come up short in our own estimation. As we strive to improve ourselves each day, we sometimes become discouraged because we haven’t made it to perfection yet. But what we need to remember is that our Heavenly Father loves us and He needs each of us to do the best we can in whichever of the places we might find ourselves. He doesn’t expect perfection; all He expects of us is that we just keep trying.

In his 1997 general conference talk, “Because She Is a Mother,” Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said the following:

“If you will strive to love God and live the gospel yourselves; if you will plead for that guidance and comfort of the Holy Spirit promised to the faithful; if you will go to the temple to both make and claim the promises of the most sacred covenants a woman or man can make in this world; if you will show others, including your children, the same caring, compassionate, forgiving heart you want heaven to show you; if you try your best to be the best person you can be, you will have done all that a human being can do and all that God expects you to do.”

Simply said, life doesn’t always go the way we want it to go – or think it will. I have lived a lot of my life so far and still haven’t figured out the answers to all my questions. But here’s what I do know in a nutshell: if you do what you know you should, you will be blessed by our Heavenly Father. It might not be now. It might not be in the way that you want. But the blessings will come. Elder Holland’s advice for when life is hard and you’re discouraged and tired and you don’t know if you can go one step further is this:

“Do the best you can through these years, but whatever else you do, cherish that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends angels to watch over you and your little ones.”

In Doctrine and Covenants 82:3 we’re told:

“I, the Lord am bound when ye do what I say, but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise.”

Two things in this scripture stand out to me. 1) He can’t bless us until we do what’s right. But 2) the really amazing thing to me about this scripture is that the Lord wants to be bound to us. It’s not something He’s trying to get out of.

Where I've Been

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Tue, 14 May 2013 18:20:00 +0000

Hello poor, neglected blog. I feel like I've been gone for a long time. The reasons for this are many, but boil down to basically this: too much to do, too little to say about it.

I know most of this won't be interesting to most of you, but for posterity's sake, I feel I need to document the last couple of weeks, so here's what I've been doing:

Science Fairs:

Karate tournaments:

Spring concerts:

Ice skating tests:

Eating my way through the food truck scene in Austin, Texas:

Dance recital rehearsals:

School Mother's Day programs:

School Mother's Day concerts:

Where someone got a little bored mid-way through:

Street festivals:

And then there was that Mahler concert where someone let them wear their facepaint to the symphony:

All in all, it's been a good couple of weeks off, but man I'm tired.

Parents Who Act Silly Have Children Who Act Silly

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sat, 04 May 2013 10:30:00 +0000

My children will never understand why this was so funny:

KoH: "You're acting silly."

Caterpillar: "Yes."

KoH: "How'd you get so silly?"

Caterpillar: "I don't know."

KoH: "Did you learn it in school?"

Caterpillar: "No."

KoH: "Did you learn it from a friend?"

Caterpillar: "No."

KoH: "Well then, who taught you to be so silly?"

Caterpillar: "You, alright? I learned it by watching you!" *runs out of room*

If you don't understand either, you'll need to watch this. Also, you are too young for us to be friends.

Typha

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Fri, 03 May 2013 20:16:00 +0000

I have been obsessed with cattails as long as I can remember.

Maybe because they didn't really grow where I grew up and when I saw one it was a unique occurrence, but more probably because you can pick one and then beat your sibling with it until all the fluff comes out of them and it looks like its snowing.

Upside Down Tulip

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Wed, 01 May 2013 10:00:00 +0000

In honor of May Day, may I present to you, my new favorite flower:

Fritillaria.

I was able to find the name of this one by google-ing the phrase "upside down tulip" and a wealth of [happily appropriate] images popped up. Which is a good thing, because I cannot remember that word to save my life and in the past three days have, called it all of the following:

flotilla
fruit pie
flotsam
fruit fly
Friar Tuck
flutillitorium
Felini
flitillilliri

There's another thing I've almost called it as well, but I'm attempting for this to be a PG-rated blog. Unlike my brain.

Private Eyes, They're Watching You

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 22:00:00 +0000

These little plants I found last week fascinated me and I've been spending time trying to figure out what kinda plant izzat? all week because I want to plant them in my yard. This is the one time Google consistently fails me: when I have a picture and no words and I'm trying to figure out what the name of that thing in the picture is but my verbal skills are limited to "green plant, light green bloom, kinda looks like boobies." You can imagine that I'm probably not going to get a hit list full of pictures of plants with those search terms in my query. If you know what this plant is, please leave your wisdom in the comments.

Bird Pair

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 11:44:00 +0000

Busy week. Much to discuss. But on my way to yet another event, so no time to do it. Instead, look at these harbingers of Spring, which hasn't quite made it to us yet, but is trying.

Breakfast in Bed

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 11:00:00 +0000

How come when she makes me breakfast, I gotta eat five ketchup sandwiches, but when she makes him breakfast, he gets chocolate chip cookies and milk?

Momma needs to explain the four food groups a little better.

Kids is Useful

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 11:00:00 +0000

I told her to pick all the dandelions in the front yard because I wanted a bouquet of dandelion flowers from my favorite five year old. But really, I just didn't feel like weeding.

Stonewall

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 20:15:00 +0000

This pile of stones was in my front yard for several weeks.

Pretty though they might be in this photo taken with a good lens, they look way better on the camera phone photo as the two raised flower beds they have been formed into for my salsa garden. Mucho Nacho Jalapeños, don't fail me now.

Broccoli

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 20:50:00 +0000

Yesterday was plain awful, wasn't it? Let's just contemplate nature a little while we remind ourselves that life is beautiful and there are way more good people than bad.

Well Done, Tulips

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 00:10:00 +0000

I spent some time out in the yard this weekend, pulling weeds. I now have a new found dislike for gardening and anything that requires me to bend over so that my head is below my heart. Actually, I realized my initial dislike for this physical position years ago when I was helping to tile a friend's house, but in this particular application of the technique, you can also flick dirt up in your face and get it lodged in your bra, which is even less fun.

While I was so engaged, I happened to notice The Caterpillar, who was out in the yard with me talking excitedly. I could see there was no one else around, so I ignored it for the most part. She's talking about eighty-five percent of the time, and she only expects people to respond half of that time. But at some point, her chatter started to sound a little less like a one-sided conversation so I tuned in and caught the pep talk she was giving the plants in the front flower bed:

"Great job, flowers. You are beautiful! And good job blooming, pink tulips! You look GREAT! And you, red tulips, you are also doing a really good job with your blooming too. You are making our yard look great! And you, yellow tulip... well, I don't know you're doing there, but good job, you!"

Bucket Buddy

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 02:03:00 +0000

This may not be the best way to store a child,

but it sure makes it easier to carry them.

Sixteen Years

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 20:04:00 +0000

I gave my husband a hoe for our anniversary.

That sounds wrong.

It was a Love Hoe.

That sounds worse.

It's an antique.

Just like our marriage.

Gerbera Daisy

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 19:48:00 +0000

Two days ago, I was so cold in the middle of the night, I couldn't sleep. Exactly two weeks ago, we had snow on the ground. Today it is 82 degrees outside. We've gone from Winter and skipped over Spring right into Summer. I mentioned my disgust about this to The KingofHearts and his response was "Such is life in the swamp."

And that's all I have to say about that.

Love Expressed on a Bathroom Wall

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sun, 07 Apr 2013 16:13:00 +0000

The saga of the bath crayons continues, but I never really told you the beginning.

Basically about two weeks ago, I was in Target and without the ability to self-regulate, I saw a package of bath crayons on sale and grabbed them off the end wrap as we were walking by. I used to purchase these years ago when the Shortlings were... well... shorter, but at nine and five, the girls are almost too old for these things. However, I'm pretty sure there's a seventy-five dollar purchase minimum every time I simply walk into Target (or maybe the good folks at Target just want me to think that) so, this helped fill a quota. When I got home, I stuck them on a shelf in the bathtub and said nothing.

The Shortlings used them, of course, not because what they'd been missing in their lives was bath crayons or because bath crayons make you smarter, but because they were there. They drew on the walls and left strange pictures of Easter eggs and zombies and made a giant mess. And then I started cleaning it all off when I was in the shower and leaving a picture of my own in it's place. And then they took it a step further with a host of not-necessarily-appropriate-for-children movie quotes. And I took it a step further than that with a series of crossword puzzles which they, in turn filled in when they were in the shower. And that's when our water bill increased by twenty percent because we were all just standing around naked in the shower, thinking of new things to write on the bathroom walls.

And then there was a day where I didn't take a shower that morning, so The Dormouse left me a word search instead. It was cute. I took my turn in the shower and completed her word search. The next day when it was still there, I was in the bathroom and happened to notice a slight theme about the words she incorporated:

Mom
Dad
Family
Love
LA
Movie
Bye

OK, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Not every single one of the words was a message of love and gratitude, but I like to think it's okay to instill a love of movies and Los Angeles in my children as well. Either way, it is not lost on me that when she created a game for me to do while I was standing naked in the shower, the first words that occurred to her to write down were Mom, Dad, Family and Love.

I do alotta stupid things for... and sometimes just around... my kids. Cuphands, anyone?

I just hope that some of the stupid stuff I do covers up for my mostly total ineptitude as a parent and ends up being things they look back on when they grow up and smile about. I know when I grow up I will.

Oh that? Aisle 9.

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sat, 06 Apr 2013 22:56:00 +0000

For some reason, this picture reminds me of this awesome Target store prank. (So you must click on that link and let hilarity ensure.) I found this just after I bought my Self Birthing Kit.

And yes, we pushed her all around the whole store like that. If you want some odd looks from fellow shoppers, give it a try. But you'll find yourself randomly yelling, "Don't let your hair get in the wheels!" and then those who don't see what's in your cart think you're talking to them. Or the voices in your head. Igual no más.

More Fun with Bath Crayons

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Mon, 01 Apr 2013 10:00:00 +0000

It's not weird to be standing in the shower, thinking up new things to write on the bathtub surround walls to amuse your children, is it?

Nevermind, forget I asked. I don't want to know.

Happy Easter, if You're Into That Kind of Thing

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 10:00:00 +0000

In our continuing saga of non-traditional Easter egg dying crafts, we decided to go for something a low tech this year. (Can Easter egg dying be considered high tech? Maybe we'll just say we dirtied fewer bowls.)

May I present: Dyeless Easter Egg Dying

First, you boil some eggs. While that's happening on the stove, take one of those little plastic pencil sharpeners and shave up as many crayons as you care to not have anymore. Make little piles of colors with the shavings.

Then, take a boiled egg out of the hot water with tongs and dry it off with a towel. Leave the rest of the eggs in the hot water for now, you'll be doing this one by one and they need to stay warm. While your dry egg is still very hot, sprinkle crayon shavings over it in whatever design you wish and watch the colored wax melt all over the egg.

They're gonna be hot, and therefore difficult to touch if you need to steady them. Every time we touched them, melted crayon smeared around and melted onto our fingers like candle wax. This is probably fine if you're a violinist/guitarist like me and have no feeling in your fingertips anymore, but if you're under ten and still have baby-skin covering your phalanges, it might hurt a bit. It also mess with your design. I finally put them in these little ramekins to keep them from rolling around.

The ramekins make it much easier to decorate the egg without touching it and to prevent the egg from rolling off the table and leaving a melted crayon trail across your floor. But they also make it harder to decorate the entire egg. Once you turn it to do the other side, the wax will mush all around in the bowl and muddy up your awesome design. I have not yet figured out a better procedure for this. But then again, I'm not certain how much of a design you can actually create with this method. It's more of a Jackson Pollack effect.

You will, however, have to have some restraint when it comes to determining that your egg is complete, because if you put too much stuff on there, it starts to look like a crayon barfed all over your egg. Also, those tips of the crayons that you couldn't fully cut down into shavings are too thick to actually melt. Your mother may already know this, but you gotta give it a try anyway.

All Four Food Groups

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Sat, 30 Mar 2013 11:34:00 +0000

Progress from the Five Ketchup Sandwiches incident.

Caterpillar: "I made everyone dinner, momma."

"I see. You 'made' orange juice, yogurt, cheese slices, a cup of tomatoes and... what's that in the cups?"

"Quesadillas."

"I see. Well, serving them in cups is certainly an interesting new presentation."

"Duh. I put them in cups so the cheese wouldn't fall out."

"Good thinking."

"I know."

It's the Moment of Truth

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 11:24:00 +0000

Heaven help me, I cannot stop making Karate Kid movie references. This isn't even karate. It's a Korean martial art called Tang Soo Do. Perhaps I'll have to go back and watch Kung Fu one more time so I can allude to a second pop culture reference about a martial art that's not actually what she's doing.

We attended our first martial arts tournament last weekend and The Dormouse competed. She needs to compete in at least one tournament in order to take her next belt test and this one fell on a convenient Saturday so we thought we'd get it over with. But I think now the bug has bit her and we might be attending more that just the one that's required. The Dormouse took fifth place in form and fourth place in fighting. I tried to get a photo of her really excited face, but this being her first tournament, she never knew quite what to expect next and pretty much looked like a deer in headlights throughout the whole thing.

This is gonna come off all mom-braggy and maybe it is, but I'm really proud of her and all she accomplishes. As a professional Jack of All Trades myself, I can relate to her desire to do as many different things as she does. And, like me, the basics of so many things come pretty easily for her. She picked up piano, violin, crafts, crochet, sewing, and now ice skating and mastered a basic level of competence handily. But even I never had the guts to attempt something like this.

But also like me, there's a point at which when things start to require real work and are no longer easy for her, she starts to lose interest. My concern as her parent is what to do then. I don't need her to be the best at everything she does; that's never been my concern. But I do want her to learn how to work for something. I want her to understand the value of practice and discipline and preparation. I want her to try really, really hard for something and then to complete it and maybe not even win, but just feel good about herself because she did better than she ever thought she would. This is going to be our challenge with this one: how to instill a sense of value into the things that come so easily for her. If any of you figure out how to do that, can you please let me know so I can maybe send her to live with you when she's a teenager?

Until then, here's a photo essay from a really fun day.

We Are the Children

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 18:32:00 +0000

I showed The Dormouse the We Are the World video this morning because she's been learning the song in her school choir for their Tribute to Michael Jackson concert and I figured it was high time she realize that Michael Jackson wasn't the only person who sang that on that record. She was full of shock and awe to learn that there were literally scores of people on that stage and the whole thing was actually Harry Belafonte's idea. She might have an awesome music teacher, but that music teacher probably didn't watch Live Aid on TV at her boyfriend's house in 1985 as a teenager, so I can probably still teach her a thing or two.

There are several things that made me happy about this short interaction:

1. Both The Dormouse and The Caterpillar loved the song. (I... actually... do not. But it is a part of the soundtrack of my youth, so I'll take it.)

2. I successfully named every artist who had a cameo/solo line in that video, with the exception of Dionne Warwick, whose name had escaped me because I have always mixed her name up with Diana Ross' and once I actually said "Diana Ross" out loud, that name stuck in my brain, blocking the other one out, and all I could spit out was, "She hadalotta psychic friends." The Dormouse had no frame of reference for this comment.

3. The Dormouse didn't know who many of the artists were by sight, but once I named them, she recognized about half.

4. The Dormouse did not know who Ray Charles was when his solo came up, but she listened to him sing for a couple of seconds and then successfully noted that Louis Armstrong was probably one of his influences. Let me reiterate: My nine-year old daughter knows Louis Armstrong (born in 1901) better than Ray Charles (born in 1930). If there were ever a question that she might not really be mine and was switched with another baby at the hospital, this would have set everyone's minds at ease.

Once the video ended, both girls went off to perform it to the stuffed animals in The Caterpillar's room and raise some imaginary money for charity while I went back to my work. It was just a moment. But moments like this remind me that while I may not be an excellent mother with the ability to raise strong, confident and successful children who will contribute to society, at least they'll have a well-rounded music education.

However, she had no idea who Huey Lewis was, so clearly there is much more to do.

I Did a Turn at County

noreply@blogger.com (NG) — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 02:11:00 +0000

Perhaps I should not allow my kids to watch Pitch Perfect and then use bathtub crayons in the shower.

But then again, it could just say "Redrum" over and over so I guess I'll take this.