Sunday, August 31, 2008


noun. A day I shall immortalize with my greatest sculpture to date: I call it The Big Poo.

Real citation: "I had a post all written up and blogger disconnected itself and lost it on me. So the jist of my first attempt was to say that I had to apologized to Husband for our Anniversary turning into a Crapaversary. Because I was sick. Boo hoo me. We had Chinese take-out for supper, I bought a heart-shaped black forest cake for dessert (can you feel the love) and then I went to bed at 8:00. Before my children. And then Tigger was up the next morning at 5:00 bowing down to the porcelain throne, but he's better today and back to school. Me, not so much. Coffee is burning my stomach. Not good not good not good. It's almost noon and I don't feel awake yet. But I did get my roses. 15 of them. One for each year we've been married. They are beautiful, but I don't have the energy to take a picture of them yet."
(Feb. 16, 2007, Moments in Time,

Made-up citation: "How can we celebrate the crapaversary of the dark day we met? If an atomic drano wedgie is involved, I'm in."

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