Grocery Bag Bunny-trooper

I had a flashback tonight to the many times when I was a wee one and tried to make a parachute out of a grocery bag. When I say "make" I mean that I tied it to my poor, soon-to-be-smashed-into-the-hardwood bunny. She plummeted to her death with her short life passing before her bead-y eyes, and all I could think was, "maybe this time she'll survive!" You would think after years of failed attempts I would have stopped, but I continued to do something over and over again, expecting different results. What am I saying? I'm saying that, according to Albert Einstein, I am insane.

He's judging me with his eyes...

My poor bunny suffered through multiple skydiving sessions over the years, countless broken bones and serious brain damage. Why would I torture her so? Because someone was foolish enough to let me roam free in the drugstore toy aisle where I stumbled upon a pack of toy paratroopers. How come the toy paratroopers floated so gracefully to the ground, but my bunny fell to the ground before gravity even had a chance to blink? How dare those foolish, colorful men were better at floating like a butterfly than my beautiful, pink bunny! Stupid little men. 18 years later, they still taunt me...

First Kiss Follow-up

Last week I went home for a few days to see my family and attend my cousin's wedding. It was great to see my parents and brothers again, having not seen them since the hectic week of my own wedding.

My father brought up the topic of my blog the second day I was there. I know my mother has been reading this since my first post (Hi, Mom!), but I assumed my father simply skimmed it if he even looked at it at all. I was excited to hear his analysis, but what he had to say only reassured me, once again, that I am my father's daughter.

I was waiting for a comment on improper grammar or language usage, but, instead, he exclaimed, "I did the exact same thing for my first kiss!" Apparently, an inability to think on one's toes when the big moment was upon us is, in fact, a genetic trait. I wonder if I will pass this on to any of my children, and when will it be appropriate to ask them if they did the same thing as their mother and grandfather had. Will it ruin my relationship with them if I stand in wait at the door while they are on their first dates and pounce like a puma that hasn't eaten in weeks when they step foot in the house? I'd be doing it for science!

Geneticists across the globe would thank me for my groundbreaking work!
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You disagree? Really?
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Well, I think they would, loyal readers. I think they would.

Oh, DNA, why do you have such a strange sense of humor?