The Verdict Is In!

What's Your Guess?

So, the husband and I have decided that we will, indeed, be learning the gender of  The Blob. Well, I should say that I have decided. I think he's always assumed we would find out and I have been the one on the fence. But, I have decided to end my time as a fence sitter and embrace the fact that it is simply easier to plan for The Blob's arrival if we know what kind of Blob The Blob will be. So, we are going to find out. The established date of discovery is next Thursday (May 27th).

In light of this thrilling (sort of thrilling? ho hum?) event, I am now taking guesses. That's right, I am celebrating the upcoming arrival of Blob (or Blobette) Montague by wagering on his/her gender.

To play my little game: post a comment with your guess! If you're right you will win the satisfaction of knowing that you guessed correctly in a game of chance in which your odds of being correct were 50/50! And, if pregnancy brain doesn't get the better of me, I might send you something. Who knows? It will be a terrific surprise!

Don't be shy; comment away!

Dear Nature's Own Bread Company,

PR advice: when a customer informs you that she has found a fly baked into a loaf of your bread, it would be wise to offer compensation other than a $.55 cent coupon for another loaf of your bread. Seriously. Otherwise, said disgruntled customer is going to blog about your pathetic attempt to make things "right" and tell everyone she has ever known not to purchase your product.

You stink,
Erin

P.S. Telling me that "In 13 years we've never had a bug in our product!" does not reassure me.

P.P.S. The man who came to "collect the evidence" was very gracious. You should put him in charge of PR, because whoever's doing covering PR now is really, really incompetent.

Win Free Stuff!

Hey All-
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And so, I starve...

Yesterday, I made a rather large pan of cheesy chicken and noodles (which is also supposed to have broccoli in it, but because I really despise cooked broccoli, I never actually put the broccoli in) for our dinner (that we ate at 7:45 because church goes until 6pm, which means we don't get home until 6:30 or later...I hate our church time). We ate. It was lovely. I was thinking how happy I would be today because of all the lovely cheesy chicken and noodles left-overs that I would have for lunch...mmmmm left-overs.

Tragically, there will be no left-overs.

Why, you ask? Because I forgot to put the left-overs in the fridge. Instead, said left-overs sat on the stove all night long and became a congealed blob of disgusting-ness. Tragic, I tell you. And, to make matters worse, all night I kept feeling like I was forgetting something (which, clearly, I was) but could not figure out what that "something" might be. Until this morning. When I made breakfast. And saw the congealed blob of disgusting-ness sitting on the stove. And cried just a little.

I died a little as I scraped it out of the pan and into the trash.Good-bye, lunch! So, now, I starve. Well, at least until I gather the strength to go make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My life is truly so, so hard.