Although it only snowed about 2 cm last night (that's right, I'm going metric today), our schools are canceled, which means Hatchling's playschool is also canceled. What's a mommy to do? And how does the school system expect me to explain to a very excited four year old that while there is too much snow for school, there is not enough snow to make a snowman? Or even proper snow angels. Or snowballs. Oh, the drama. It's a good thing Hatchling is a boy, cause the little bit of testosterone coursing through his body is the only thing between him and a 5-star meltdown, diva style.

I took these pics a few weeks ago, when Hatchling returned from playschool in his used-to-be-white shirt. Strangely, no artwork accompanied his triumphal return home.


That's paint all over his shirt, in case you lack the mommy senses to evaluate stains in a single glance. I was horrified. I mean, yeah, white shirts and little boys don't mix. In my defense, people are always buying him outfits that need a white shirt to go with them (the one in the pics includes a jacket that he apparently shed just before , in his words, "taking paint brushes and koonting** them in the paint").

I almost threw the shirt away before washing it, but my cheapness prevailed. I figured if I could fade the stains, it would still be ok to wear under things. To my astonishment, after a treatment with the Oxi Clean spray on stuff, it came out looking new. I mean you would think I bought a new shirt clean. Amazing. I should be in commercials, no?



**Koont: v. This is a word which, to my knowledge, exists only in Hatchling's vocabulary. It means to hit, explode, kill, or otherwise cause destruction. It is usually accompanied by a throat/nasal sound that sounds like phlegm being gathered to be spit out, and is guaranteed to make my blood pressure skyrocket. When they have to cart me off to the loony bin, you will all know it was the combination of this sound and the Buzz Lightyear gun that did me in.

I'm always concerned when I return from a trip to the mailbox to the words "no trouble while you were gone, Mommy!"

Tax return time! In very un- American fashion, we here in Slushville have used ours to pay off our credit card (thank you, adoption tax credit!) Hooray!!!! We've never been without a credit card payment in our marriage- I guess 7 years is the magic number, eh? Now, if only we could get the house paid for, we'd be set...

Have you ever heard of the Dyatlov Pass Accident? No? Me neither, at least until I read this article in the San Francisco Chronicle. Holy crap- how is this not a movie yet? Here's an excerpt to whet your palate:

Then, something happens. In the middle of the night all nine suddenly leap out of their tents as fast as possible, ripping them open from the inside (not even enough time to untie the doors) and race out into the sub-zero temps, without coats or boots or skis, most in their underwear, some even barefoot or with a single sock or boot. It is 30 degrees below zero, Celsius. A few make it as far as a kilometer and a half down the slope. All nine, as you might expect, quickly die.

And so it begins.

Why did they rush out, unable to even grab a coat or blanket? What came at them? The three-month investigation revealed that five of the trekkers died from simple hypothermia, with no apparent trauma at all, no signs of attack, struggle, no outward injuries of any kind. However, two of the other four apparently suffered massive internal traumas to the chest, like you would if you were hit by a car. One's skull was crushed. All four of these were found far from the other five. But still, no signs of external injuries.

Not good enough? How about this: One of the women was missing her tongue.

That's right- her tongue was missing. You didn't see that coming, now did you? The official findings of the government inquiry? "Unknown compelling force." I feel better, don't you? Go, read- here's the Wikipedia page too, in case you are as strange, er, I mean, fascinated as me.