So Anal Am I....

.... that while rearranging some shelves in the kitchen, and reorganizing my cookbooks, I made sure to place the fondue ones between the French and Italian ones-- fondue being Swiss and all.

Also, all the Tenspeed Press ones together... first Mollie Katzen, and then some Mollie-Katzenesque knock-off titled "The Potato Experience" (which actually yielded some mighty tasty stuff).

Who occupies the place of honor? The First Lady, Nigella Lawson, and The First Irish Lady, Rachel Allen... with strong preference going to the second at the moment, mostly because she's not as pretentious.

Evan Defines Probability

Evan and I were in the women's bathroom at the library Friday afternoon. After he'd washed his hands, he looked over and saw the sanitary dispenser on the wall. What follows is a very accurate version of the conversation we had:

Evan (recognizing that this is a machine you put money in, turn the handle, and something comes out): I want to put some money in there.

Me: No, not today. Your money is all gone.

Evan: What comes out of there, Mom?

Me: Special things just for Mamas come out of there.

Evan: No, no, that's not right.

Me: It's not? What does come out of there, then, Evan?

Evan (with utter certainty): Maybe it's crap. Or maybe it's treats.

Me (stifling laughter): You're right. It could be crap, or it could be treats.

That phrase, right there, captures just so much of life, doesn't it?

I Don't Like Beatrix Potter

Lately Evan is pretty obsessed with reading a trilogy of Beatrix Potter stories every night before bed. These usually include some combo of the following: The Tale of Two Bad Mice; The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies; The Tale of Jemima Puddle-duck (who he insists is a goose); Squirrel Nutkin; The Tale of Mister Jeremy Fisher (which we call "The Frog Story"); or, The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle.

I think his literature choice has more to do with the fact that the books are endearingly tiny, which makes it easy for him to carry the whole boat load all at one time and dump it on his bed, saying, "Let's choose these, Mama." And every night, I usually say something like, "Can't we choose something else? What about Marvin? Or how about Maisy?" (Those last two being Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now? and Maisy Cleans Up). But, I have to give in, and end up reading the Potter stories.

While I appreciate that Potter's characters are beautifully rendered; and that she probably invented a very novel thing creating animals who can talk and do laundry and all sorts, I don't think she's much of a story-teller. At the end of every Beatrix Potter story, my reaction is, "Huh?! What?! And only four of Jemima Puddle-duck's eggs hatched why? And you think Jeremy Fisher's roasted grasshopper would taste nasty why? And Squirrel Nutkin says what when you ask him to tell you a riddle why? And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle feels the need to pose as a laundress instead of just a hedgehog why?"

Worst of all, even Evan gets bored reading these stories, many times urging me-- "Turn the page! I said, turn the page!" well before I even finish reading the text on it. Why not take me up on one of my other suggestions, Evan?

Geez-- 3-year-olds!