My van is still sitting at Ned's shop, hopefully getting the same TLC it did when it was worth $600 to him. When I drove past the garage yesterday (on my way to the drugstore from the doctor to pick up an antibiotic for the ear infection I woke up with during the night) I saw her outside with the hood up. Just nice to know Ned is trying over there. She is the new wave of Mystery Machines, that being the American automobile. How I long for a Honda Odyssey.

And I'm not sure my instructor received my very informative but headache-laden email about my classmate's not-so-fine plagiarism skills. I sent myself the same article with a message to myself but never got it. If I didn't get it maybe teach didn't get it. Which is fine with me because then I don't have to think about the hammer falling on my fellow classmate even though she asked for it.

I find it strange that the word god sounds like good and the word evil sounds like ego.

And Dallas is pooping in his potty and sleeping in his big bed as of this week. The kid poops a lot--ya eat a lot, ya poop a lot--and he doesn't like it against his skin so I'm changing him constantly. His affinity for being "maked" makes it easy for him to plop right down on the potty too. I'm glad because I wasn't expecting him to do this well until summer. His readiness means he can start preschool in the fall.

I'm veering this way for a minute. I hate that the school demands $45 per kid just to reserve a spot for them. So it's like I have to pay double tuition in March. I'm thinking I'll wait until fall and if the kids lose their spots, so be it. There is a preschool right up the street they can go to. Only problem is the teacher/director makes them sit in church for 15 minutes each week and associates good things with God or Jesus, I forget which. I hope not Jesus. It's not the hugest problem in the world, I know. Her getting my boys to sit for 15 minutes is worse than the light religion. Plus I find the fundraising aspect of the current preschool bothersome. Don't make me sell $60 worth of tickets for a spaghetti dinner and Chinese raffle! Instead give me a few cases of candy bars and, trust me, I'll unleash them and be asking for another three cases. Instant gratification, people. The cold-calling for donations is a pain in my ass too. Euclid isn't a town of status. Businesses don't care to work or advertise here because there is little to no return on profit. People here do, however, eat chocolate. I just know they do, especially at Easter.

Dallas is napping in his giant bed right now. It's a twin bed but he's so darn little and he stays in one spot tucked under *my* Cabbage Patch Kid flannel sheets and two more blankets. He used to bounce in his sleep every night in the crib, which made me hesitant to switch him to the bed; I thought he really liked the bounce of the crib mattress and would long for it. Well, he took to the bed immediately, and no more bouncing. We figured out that the bouncing might have been his attempt to get warm in the coldest room in the house and get back to sleep.

Oh, one more thing. I told my husband I loved his family but who in their right mind thought it would be a good idea to give me grandma's polyester fabric collection? His mom didn't have the heart to throw it away in front of her mom, so I guess she was fine with me doing it. I kept the boxes though and transferred the yards and yards and yards of a mature woman in the 70's tastes to garbage bags picked up yesterday. The boxes have holes in them, you see, holes that fit Lloyd's pipes perfectly. He's in one right now.