Proof That God Loves Chicago Afterall

Some days, it is good to be the U-Mom. Those who have been with me for a while know that 1.) I can't cook and 2.) I am well aware of my blessings and forever grateful for them. Especially since I have absolutely no idea what I've done to deserve any of them.

There's Urban Dad. I've gone on about him before.

There's Best Namma Ever!, who continues to be the only functioning player in The Grandma Game for the Urban Kids. And she does so beautifully.

There's living in one of the best cities on the planet. Ok, there are several times I question this. Don't ask me about having the highest sales tax in the nation. Or parking. Or taxes in general. Or the weather. Or graft. Or the schools. Or the ridiculous Olympics bid. Ask me about something else.

Like this man.

His name is Grant Achatz. God sent this artist to Earth, and saw fit to send him to Chicago.

What Shakespeare did with words, what Van Gogh did with paint, what Mozart did with music, this guy does with food.

His restaurant is called Alinea, and it is less than two miles from the humble Urban Family abode. It is also one of the Top 10 Restaurants in the World.

Now God nearly saw fit to take Grant right back, but apparently changed his mind. You see, young Grant here was diagnosed with a horrific case of tongue cancer a few years ago. He had two small kids and had just opened Alinea. Doctors were floored to see it in such a young, healthy man. They wanted to save his life by cutting out his tongue.

It's like a sick joke, right?

One doctor went with a different route. In addition to the usual poison-and-burn treatment, he added in an experimental drug. And left Grant's tongue in his head.

Read the whole incredible story here.

But the long and short of it is that Grant survived. Alinea survived. And they both seem to be doing beautifully. People from all over the country and world come to Alinea to experience the latest fascinating ideas knocking around in his unsettlingly creative mind. Honestly, you sit, look at your plate (if the food is even on one!), listen to the description, and wonder, "who thinks of that?" And then you thank your lucky stars that he did. And you wait with barely bated breath for whatever he deigns to offer next. 'Cause it's going to blow. your. mind.

Last summer, U-Dad's mom sent a generous check for his birthday. "Go blow it on a great dinner," she said. We thought of all of the things that we could do with it, but honored her request. While the U-Kids were at Grandma Camp with Best Namma Ever!, we decided to Swank Out for the night. I was charged with looking through Chicago Magazine and coming up with some ideas.

Hey, isn't Grant Achatz that guy I've read about a few times in Chicago magazine? (when i first read about him, i thought, "wow. amazing. bummer that i'll never eat there -- outta my league.")

So I made the reservation. Like many swanky places, they have a cancellation fee if you cancel within 24 hours of your reservation. Knowing that this would set him off, I neglected to mention that nugget of info to the U-Dad.

The night before the reservation, I was sick, as in, in the bathroom losing the pizza I'd had at a local pub. U-Dad asked if we should cancel at Alinea. Even in the revolting position that I was in, I was not going to let go of that reservation.

The next day I was better. And off we went. I'd never been to a place without any signage in front. Thus, the tip-off that we were somewhere different.

And all U-Dad & I seemed able to say to each other was, "Oh my GAWD, did you taste THAT?" And, of course, "who thinks of that?" Oh, and let's not forget the eventual, "what am I supposed to do tomorrow? Go back to a bowl of cereal?" (U-Dad made it very clear that yes, that was exactly what i was going to do.)

Some additional info here -- U-Dad grew up in a hotel family. His stepdad was a Veep with Hyatt when they were opening hotels all over the place. U-Dad has lived in enough places that he sounds like a military brat (e.g.: three high schools in four years). As a result of this upbringing, he's eaten in some of the best places. And as a result, he is dismissive of The Fancy Dinner. In his mind, it's rarely worth the money. He'd rather find the great neighborhood sushi joint and be a regular.

He was delighted to spend every last dollar of MIL's check at Alinea. And we did. It's been a year, and he's still raving. Captain Cranky U-Dad is fully and completely won over. I daresay that he's the quite possibly the tiniest bit in love.

Or maybe that's just me?

So why yammer on forever and post this now? Because last night, I took Best Namma Ever! for her birthday. I got to go back! There are several factors to this:

1. For all of the dinners that she did through her career at Boeing, I knew that she'd never been to something like this.

2. Her cheap-ass, all-talk-no-action Husband would never take her.

3. It's always fun to one-up Her Husband.

4. She deserves the best.

5. With all of the free childcare she gives us, we're still coming out ahead.

6. And I got to eat, too!

And I think that she's in love now, too. That's ok. I don't mind sharing this one.

So yeah, with all of the lovely restaurants that there are in Chicago, this is the one where whenever I drive by -- and I do so several times a week -- I wave and yell, "I'll see you again someday! I don't know when, but someday! I love you, Grant!"

Dear Followers...

For those of you who flatter and honor me by actually Following this blog...

My apologies.

I've been figuring out how to go back and label things. And I've likely hit "Publish Post" a few too many times in that effort.

But I think I have it now.

Thanks for your patience!

Regularly scheduled post coming soon.....

Well, Virginia, since you've asked.....

From the back of the car a few days ago...

Long Pause, then:

Urban Kid 1: Mom, is there actually a Santa Claus?

Me: (ooooo boy, here we go...) Uhhmmmm, interesting question, honey. Do you like thinking there's a Santa?

U-Kid 1: Yeah, (deep breath) but I just don't think there is one.

Me: Does it just all seem too good to be true?

U-Kid 1: Yeah, it really does.

Me: Well, you're pretty smart about most things. Including this one. (she nods thoughtfully while I attempt a reassuring smile) But it's fun for a lot of the other kids to believe in, especially the smaller ones. So now that you know, you have to keep it special for the other kids, okay? Show how you can be a big kid and let the others have fun with the idea, right?

U-Kid 1: Ok, I won't give it away. But, Mom?

Me: Uh-huh?

U-Kid 1: How do all of the presents get delivered, then??

Growing up, figuring it out, but still kind of innocent about it all still, too. It's interesting to watch.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Some people.... you can tell they don't have kids.



Today was an unbelievably beautiful day. The day that all of Chicago has been waiting for and wondering if it was ever going to come around again. So we knocked out a bit of school -- enough to call it "school," but no more, -- and headed out. Today was Urban Kid 1's Piano Party, the last piano class of the session, sort of a mini-recital. This, of course, called for a trip to the nail salon, right? (ok, this may have been slightly self-serving)



U-Kid 1 and I have a ritual where we duck into the local Argo Tea right next door to the nail salon and get a drink -- chai for me, juice box for her -- before we go into the salon. And what is on the back of the t-shirt of the young woman in front of us? Go ahead, guess.



A t-shirt that in large, bright pink letters says,



"FUCK IT!"

*sigh* Thanks, "lady." My 5yo U-Kid 1 can read.

U-Kid 1 was distracted by her search for the perfect juicebox out of the fridge-y thing, which was a relief. Another mom with two kids in a stroller also came along behind us, which was another relief. While this other mom was just as annoyed as me, our older girls were at least chatting with each other enough to not notice the shirt too much.

I did see that U-Kid 1 saw the shirt, but she did not ask about it. If she did ask about it? My plan was to say, loudly enough for all involved to hear, "I don't know what it means, sweetie. Why not ask the gal wearing the shirt? Perhaps she can explain it to you."

To the young woman's slight credit, she clued into the families behind her. As she waited for her drink further down the counter, she turned around so that she was facing us. And once she got her drink, her first few steps back towards the door were kind of a sideways shuffle.

Now if it's 11:00pm on a Friday night in our neighborhood, and for some reason I take out the kids, then it's on me if they see something inappropriate for little eyes. But 11:00 AM??? In the tea store? It's not like I took the U-Kids for a walk past the various Adult stores on Halsted Street (also in our neighborhood -- we have to drive by them several times a week, but they have not yet caught U-Kid 1's attention; luckily, they keep the silly, cartoony stuff in the windows rather than the ... erm ... nitty-gritty stuff).

It reminds me of once when I took U-Kid 1 shopping downtown. We were standing at a stoplight waiting to cross Michigan Avenue when the twenty-something in front of us was emphatically telling a story to her friend, peppered with grown-up words. As soon as she laid eyes on U-Kid 1, she slapped her hand over her mouth, looked embarrassed and apologized over and over to me. Her reaction was so horrified that I couldn't be mad. In fact, it was pretty funny. But there also aren't that many little kids on Michigan Avenue on a weekday in the wintertime.

There are a lot of kids around in my neighborhood in the middle of a warm, beautiful, sunny Friday.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no prude. Put Pink Power Ranger and me alone in a car together discussing this relative or that in-law, and I could outdo what is on the federal wiretaps of our ex-Governor and his wife. But to wear that shirt anywhere but on Padre Island on Spring Break? I'd be convinved that Best Namma Ever! would pop out of somewhere and smack me on the back of the head so hard that I would come to my senses and yours. My as-yet-uncreated-grandchildren would have sense smacked into them by that particular smack from BNE!.

Perhaps I'll give F-IT girl a bit of credit and hope that she had her own "teachable moment" today. Maybe she had enough decency to feel awkward. Maybe she'll go through life without someone having to sarcastically ask, "gee honey, who's prouder of you? your mother or your father?"

Here's hoping for the best.

In the meantime, thanks for letting me vent a bit!

Teachable Moments for the U-Mom

Hey there! Guess what I learned this past weekend, solo with the Urban Kids?

First, don't let them know you're afraid. They can smell fear. Now, U-Kid 2 can't smell her own pull-up and will deny deny deny that she needs a fresh one. She also can sense her mom's exasperation and will not announce a need to use the potty no matter how many hours of Dora the Explorer you promise her. But the U-Kids, however, can definitely smell fear. So it was time to put on a brave face.

Second, I learned that cooking U-Kid 1's favorite meal and lightening the hell up helped too.

Third, I learned that a beautiful day on the school playground is nothing less than a Godsend. Friends who will meet you there with their kids? Ditto.

Fourth, rainy days bite. However, taking the U-Kids to the gym and maxing out the 2-hour limit at the awesome child care facility does not.

Fifth, extra computer time and a few extra vids help too. Not caring if school gets done or not does too.

Sixth, U-Dad's absence causes my previously undiscovered bionic hearing to kick in. Seriously, it was three nights of hearing every single flippin' sound in our house, plus our landlord's upstairs, plus the house across the street, as well as the whole next block.

Seventh, the first night of a nasty head cold is just so gross.

Eighth, Best Namma Ever! and the Pink Power Ranger are excellent listeners. And BNE! probably can't get enough of me saying, "Oh my gawd, I am so sorry for everything I ever said and did after your divorce 31 years ago!"

Finally, that I'm really quite capable! You could mistake me for an actual grown-up! I strictly enforced nap/quiet time and bedtime -- afterall, enough was enough already rest is always essential. But the three of us did fine. I chugged through it all without breaking a sweat (or even a nail!). I had to keep my sh*t together because I was the only grown-up here. The real grown-up was off dealing with his own freak-show relatives.

But seriously, can we have some perspective here? As we drove away from the airport after dropping off U-Dad, U-Kid 1 let loose with the most dramatic lamentations. You see, we've never done this before. I take the U-Kids down to St. Louis to see my family once in a while, but U-Dad is always here. Well, except when all four of us pile in for the annual summer road trip. So him being the one to go was a first for U-Kid 1. So for perspective, I assured her that we were coming right back on Sunday night to pick him up. And I reminded her that her friend R has parents who are both pilots. So one or the other are often gone for a week at at a time. Sometimes they're both gone and her Grandma has to come visit. Considering their crazy schedules, this particular family spends an admirable amount of time together. She likes this family a lot, so that quickly calmed her.

I hesitated to go too far into a discussion about military parents. She & U-Dad do prayers most nights, and he always makes it a point to include our soldiers and to explain to her why we do. He's much better and the why-why-why's that accompany that talk and can do it accurately,yet without scaring the daylights out of her. But wow, I'm including the spouses left back at home much, much more emphatically now.

So yeah, we're spoiled. I'm spoiled. And totally rotten too. Right down to my squishy core. (thankyougodthankyougodthankyougod)

Oh, and we only did Happy Meals one night -- the night we collected U-Dad from Midway Airport.

(taaa daaaaaa -- hee hee)

Yes, those of you who know me know that this is indeed proud news for the U-Mom.

So no, despite my fears, this weekend did not suck. Not one bit. (U-Dad's, however, did. But that's another post.)

Ok, stop reading now and go hug someone ya love!

Flying Solo

Well, sh*t. Sh*tsh*tsh*t.

Remember that MIL stuff that I sorta referred to in my last post about Spring Break? Well, the MIL is in the hospital recovering from surgery to fix two breaks in her hip. And -- I'm not kidding here -- she has been so abusive and ugly to the hospital staff (again!) that they have drugged her so that they do not have to deal with her. Yep, she's out cold.

Tomorrow she can leave AMA (Against Medical Advice). One place in a nearby town was prepped to take her so that she could recover from her injury. But then they got her records from the hospital and are saying, "no thanks!"

She may have a few other options, but is unlikely to take them. Y'see, they don't bring around Smirnoff and Ambien at these places, so she refuses to go.

BIL #1 has been dealing with all of this for about five straight months now and is at his breaking point. He called Urban Dad today and begged him to come out and have this confrontation with MIL tomorrow. BIL #1 just needs someone to have his back. And to come up for some freakin' air.

So U-Dad booked a ticket tonight for tomorrow.

Now, first and foremost, I feel bad for U-Dad. Here he has a ticket to Swanky Resort Town, Colorado, but is really going to be abused by Satan's Handmaiden. And because he lives in reality, he embraces this description of his mother. In fact, it's kinder than many he's used!

(remember that show Everybody Loves Raymond? I'd have divorced Raymond before the first year was up. U-Dad's acknowledgement of reality and correct priorities are big fat chunks of glue that hold this family together so tightly)

But also important here is how this affects Me. Afterall, it's my blog. So it gets to be about Me.

Remember that other part of my last post about how soft and cushy my life is because of U-Dad? How I stand in awe of divorcees, widows and military wives? Eeeeeeyuh. This weekend is gonna suck.

Up side? It's going to be warm for a while this weekend, so the U-Kids can run off some energy at a playground.

Will try to blog as I can. I've been bad about posting and even worse about coming around to everyone else's cyber-fences for a chat.

In the meantime, hoping that you have a great weekend!

(now, who wants a happy meal??????? and how many d'ya suppose one can feed her kids in one weekend and still be considered a normal woman???????)

Spring Break

It's been Spring Break for Chicago Public Schools, thus giving Urban Dad an entire week of sleeping past 5:30am.



We had a few different plans for this precious week. After all, this is it until Summer as far as getting much of anything done.



Plan A was to go to Albuquerque, NM to visit U-Dad's father and stepmother. For a series of reasons, they have not yet met U-Kid 2. In fact, the last time we went to Albuquerque, well, we sort of went there without Urban Kid 2, but came back with her. (two words, people -- ford. taurus.)



But Plan B soon upended Plan A. Urban Dad's mom has been in and out of the hospital since Thanksgiving. He was supposed to go see her over T-G, but had to cancel the ticket when he screwed up his (stupid) knee. She has had a few more procedures, caused a lot of hell, abused a lot of people. Yep, a diet of Smirnoff and Law & Order reruns does not result in a pretty picture. But this plan changed on the day of U-Dad's flight when his delightful mother by her called and declared, "I do not want to see you. Do not come out here. I will throw you out if you come."



Hmmmmm. U-Dad thought, "let's see -- lots of things to get done here, wife who loves me, two fabulous kids -- ok! you take care now!"



So another ticket cancelled. Thus resulting in a week at home, all four of us.

Can I tell you how I've been sitting pretty all week? As I go through a week like this and think about a lot of other moms that I know, I realize what a one-in-a-million guy dropped out of the sky for me. I've no idea what I ever did to deserve it, either.

This is a guy who had to go to the coffee shop to grade papers every morning (he has a maddening way of collecting 8,000 essays just before a break). But before heading out, he helped get the kids fed and dressed, including changing U-Kid 2's dreaded overnight diaper. On his way out, he carried the stroller down the stairs so that it was ready to go for me to take the girls out later.

Once he got home, he took either one or the other Urban Kid out and about. Often, as U-Kid 2 napped, he would take U-Kid 1 out, thus giving me quiet and alone time. Or he would take U-Kid 2 out and about and then put her down for a nap, so my day didn't need to revolve around said nap. And I was able to take U-Kid 1 to Spanish or Piano and have some solo time to get errands done. Wow, do errands to faster when I'm on my own!

He also insisted that we get a babysitter for a few hours and go get a grown-up dinner at a grown-up restaurant, one that we have not yet tried.

He played the heavy when either of the kids started trouble. (rare occasion -- they are both perfect angels in every way -- *snort*)

U-Kid 1's school stuff flew by because he could keep U-Kid 2 amused and busy.

He cleaned. He emptied the trash. He changed poopy pull-ups and entertained U-Kid 2 on the potty. He brushed U-Kid 2's teeth. Handled baths and pajamas.

I was raised by a single mom. Two women that I know that are my age have been suddenly widowed over the last few years. A few cyber-friends are military wives who endure their husband's long deployments -- and they have more than two kids. A few ladies I know have found themselves divorced and having to handle every freakin' detail of every freakin' day, one after another after another. I stand in awe, ladies!

So as much as he sometimes bugs me with this or that (I, of course, am nothing but perfect love and joy to be around at all times), I have nothing to complain about. Nothing. This week has been a total and complete cakewalk, and I owe it to Urban Dad.

How d'ya suppose I should show my appreciation?

Baseball, Apple Pie and Cut-Throat Parking

It's been yet another round of rain and snow. The skies are gray, the wind is raw. I want nothing more than to organize the Urban Kids' clothes for the warm weather -- put U-Kid 2's stuff into giveaway bags and figure out what each kid needs. And the thought of being able to leave the house in shorts and flip-flops instead of having to put myself and two shorties into multiple layers of clothes..... it's too much to even dream about.

But today, I had to print out two copies of this: one for the car, one for the fridge. Our lives will revolve around this like the Earth revolves around the sun. Especially the afternoon games.

And I'm convinced that the city arranges for street cleaning days to fall on the same ones as afternoon games, thus eliminating an entire side of the street to parking for the better part of the day. It's free money for the city! And it leads to the need for complicated plotting and planning for those of us living in the neighborhood. Yes, take your car someplace during the day on an Afternoon Game + Street Cleaning Day, and you are taking a gamble with a large chunk of your day upon your return.

After the winter we've had, I'm actually strangely looking forward to this!

Doing a Shopping Smack-Down

It's the little victories that cheer us the most sometimes, isn't it? And after being raised in modest circumstances and living on as many as four minimum wage jobs at one time during and just after college, I can proudly stretch a dollar until it screams for mercy. If there was a 1992 Olympic event in Shopping on Double Coupon Days, I would have easily medalled.

I give Urban Dad credit -- sometimes he begs me to go buy myself something pretty. But frankly, I don't need much. And the kids are always growing, a result of me breaking down to their demand of being fed every. single. day. So it's easier for me to end up getting stuff for them. Don't get me wrong -- it's usually stuff from Target or Children's Place (caution: avoid the jeans at CP -- you get what you pay for). I let the MIL spring for the Nordstrom gift card and then mostly use it for a really good pair of Merrill's for each kid.

Well, I had a shopping victory this weekend at Gap. It was a 3-day sale where they took another 30-percent off of the price if you got four sale items. Then I broke down and got the credit card for an additional 15-percent off, for a total of 45-percent off the sale price. And it's one of those things that you come home bursting to share about it! And while U-Dad is appreciative and all, the fact is that he's a guy. So he smiles and nods and answers correctly when I ask, "Who has the greatest wife in the world?!" But he'll never be as excited as another chick. (or perhaps george and jeff, my token male readers -- hi george and jeff!)

And so, my conquests!


I've been looking for a new "Mom Bag." U-Kid 2 is starting to potty train, and U-Kid 1 has recently developed the appetite of a 12-year-old boy. So I need something big enough to lug stuff around without getting the gigantic white Grandma bag.


This originally retailed for $58. I know. $58 for that?? But for $17.25.... well, now we can do some business!







I also needed a bag for lugging around books. I take Urban Kid 2 to a branch of our gym for a little class she does -- they call it Mighty Movers; I call it Mighty Movin' Ass-Kickers. I don't know why except that I just enjoy saying it. (not in front of the U-Kids, of course) U-Kid 1 and I go to the lobby of the gym and do math, handwriting and reading. I then drop her off at the kiddie-care place too and enjoy about 30-45 minutes of reading, chatting on the phone with another adult, whatever. The bag I was carrying was a ratty old thing with a broken snap and junk in the bottom that I did not even want to try to identify anymore. I would post a "before" picture of that, but it is now in a dumpster, where it should have gone a while back. But this is it's replacement:


Originally retailed at $39.50. U-Mom gleefully picked it up for $8.92!

And finally, something for the U-Kids. Well, U-Kid 1 anyway. So eventually, U-Kid 2 since Gap stuff tends to wear well enough to easily hand down at least once.

That cute white top was originally $24.50. I nabbed it for $11.89. The shorts started out at $19.50. But not for me! On a very chilly afternoon, I took them off of Gap's hands for $8.32.

That's $141.50 worth of stuff for a whopping total of $46.38.

Note to parents: never pay retail at Gap. Wait three weeks for it to go on sale. And those days when you find something lovely and the price ends in a "7?" Those are good days!

Another thing about bragging loudly about these victories to the U-Dad? When it comes time for laser eye surgery , he's quite amenable. Yeah, he probably would be anyway, but repeated episodes of this kind of thing only greases the wheels. And we all know that I'm now working on getting Botox. Or maybe now a MacBook. I'm sort of torn. But that's another post.

Off to fill my new Mom Bag with pull-ups, wipes, snacks, plus the pens that will sink to the bottom and not be seen again until I get a new Mom Bag sometime in the future!

Introducing.... U-Mom's Flavor of the Month Program

After much consideration, I've opted to add a new Feature to the Urban Mom corner of cyberspace. At least, for as long as my .... ooooo, look! a shiny object ..... attention span feels the need for it.

May I present to you Flavor of the Month?

You see, I was feeling all conflicted about the whole Edward thing. I mean, don't get me wrong, he is some fine eye candy and all. But you see, I'm old enough to be his, well, really cool favorite Aunt. But I'm not dead. (there's a dumb joke in there somewhere with the whole vampire thing, but let's just leave it, shall we??) And so, I began to consider the need for some "old" blood on this site. As in, it is now time for me to play with kids my own age.

So here's The Main Rule of Flavor of the Month -- he must be no more than two years younger than me. That's reasonable, right? Keeps me within the societal confines of being good, decent and proper?

By way of a backhanded introduction, I am re-introducing my TV Boyfriend. I've referred to him before here, as well as Urban Dad's wonderful generosity in allowing me my TV dalliance. But you see, I've had a change of heart. And so, I give to you my Long Goodbye To and Break-Up From my TV Boyfriend by allowing him to be the first to wear the mantle of Urban Mom's Flavor of the Month. And no, it is not lost on me that he will be shorted by missing the first few days of April. It's not like he's going to complain, right? Besides, that's the beauty of a TV Boyfriend -- it really is all about me!

I used to be able to ignore a lot about Now-Ex-TV Boyfriend. I mean, just look at him! Couldn't you overlook a few things? So I let slide the fact that this British spy show seemed incapable of portraying one single American as competent or decent. And I could even shrug off the obvious political slant of the show that was the polar opposite of my own. After all, it's a British show, so why not give them some slack? I didn't figure that a St. Louis-raised American in Chicago watching two years later while stretched out on her living room floor was their writers' target audience.

And besides, look at him!

But after getting Netflix and getting all excited to catch back up with my TV Beloved, there were things that I just couldn't let go of anymore. No longer was the political aspect a "slant;" it was a clobbering over the head. And the anti-Americanism has become impossible to ignore. And as an All-American woman watching a TV show that is supposed to be about An Impossibly Good Guy Despite His Flaws, I want to see someone who sucks it up and strides on. As in, heroically. Because if I wanted some normal guy who would probably justifiably be having a breakdown in the middle of a nail-bitingly tense situation, I would go watch Oprah or Grey's Anatomy or some crap like that. But it's at the end of a regular day in my (happily) run-of-the-mill life. I want the Sexy Action Man for an hour of entertainment. Sadly, Ex-TV Boyfriend has become wimpy and preachy. He is no longer the man that I once "knew." And so, I'm gone!

While there are six seasons of this show available, I find myself unable to go the distance. At the end of Season 5, I finally said, "ohmygawd, are you kidding me? do you people just think i'm stupid now?"

{If you want to learn more about this Pretty-Intriguing-Through-Season-Four-Show, here's the website. And it's coming to PBS soon (in America, the show is called MI-5) and will begin with Season One, before Ex-TV Boyfriend makes his delicious appearance in the cast.}
It's been fun, Ex-TV Boyfriend. But you see, I do not enjoy being insulted, especially in my own home. You no longer serve your purpose! And so, you have been fired.

Stay tuned for next month's Flavor of the Month to meet my new TV Boyfriend! (Perhaps I will have introduced Urban Dad to him by then.......)