Will someone please come to my house and remove the bag of Red-Hot candies? The roof of my mouth is raw, my tongue has taken on an unnatural crimson hue and my sinuses are WIDE OPEN and clear as a summer's day. I don't even really enjoy them, but I bought a bag, you know, for the kids, and then whoopsie, well, they don't like them either, so it's my DUTY, you understand, to consume the entire bag.

I paid a whole dollar at Target for them. And there are starving people who would weep bitter tears to know that I tossed out a bag of perfectly good Red-Hots. I have my eye on the big picture, people. I am AWARE, like that.

In other news - my oldest (who has better computer skills than my mother) sent an email to my mom via the Polly Pocket website. Now, their email form allows space for the sender's name, the recipient's name, and the email address. After spamming Grandma's email box with cheery little advertisments declaring "I played on PollyPocket.com!" my girl got frustrated. She had things to say. So she maxed out the number of characters allowed on the name line:

Hi GramoDooywattocometoMyHawootmrobecuzTmroIsgoingTobabudfuleDay*

I didn't know about this until my mom called to ask if I had helped. This tells me that 1) I need to pay attention to what my 5 year old is doing on the computer, since apparently she knows how to email, and 2) My kid has a real future in personalized license plates.

*Hi Grandma, Do you want to come to my house tomorrow because tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day.