The sad thing is, I do all this prep work for camp, and then I don’t get to go to camp.

Summers in Atlanta make me want to be nocturnal or, alternatively, Canadian.

makes a rapture related post.

Scout spent part of morning screaming “GIVE ME MONEY!” If she offers you tips on handling your next performance review, politely decline.

wishes for the first time ever that the pool snack bar sold hot chocolate.

ETA: Later, they actually *did* sell hot chocolate, though not for very long.

Is there any greater angst than that experienced by a child trying to decide how to spend a Toys R Us gift card? I wouldn’t want to see it.

is on board with the latest BeyBlade obsession. Anything that makes my kids play happily together with tops all day is OK by me.

With omelets, it’s the taste that matters, not the appearance, right? RIGHT?

ETA: I made omelets for Stacey’s birthday.  They weren’t pretty, but I thought they were pretty darn tasty.

Took a turn in the squirt booth at field day.