Feeding my listing addiction...

• Brother has such snappy eyes. They snap and sparkle and shine. They are such the window to his soul. Unfortunately, they are so captivating that sometimes, when he tells me these long, drawn out stories that really only matter to second grade boys, (Bad mama alert) I never really remember what he says. But I remember the look of his face and his snappy snappy eyes.
• Jelly Bean has a great smile and a great laugh. But, we noticed this weekend, he has wee vampire teeth. Holy Twilight! Also, those things must have hurt like a sumbitch coming through. No wonder he was so testy, oh, a million years ago. Mayhap I should have paid more attention?
• Brother got a special award for good behavior last Friday and his picture was taken to be in the paper. So, I called the school to find out when it would be in the paper. They don't know. GAH. So, I am supposed to just buy a paper that I won't read everyday until I find it? Unhelpful.
• Jelly Bean is such a little reader. Don't you just love how two-year-0lds want to hear the same story over and over and over and over and...*Ahem* You get the point. But he does love books. I got the kids a couple new books from the library discards at Brother's school. It is fun having new stuff to read that was only a quarter.
• "Why, Miss Librarian, don't you have new stuff to read alllll the time?" Because I have a library fine I haven't paid yet. Shutup.
• I have the best husband in the world. Y'all. Really. He is so cute and helpful and funny and has this amazing heart of gold. He tries so hard and I just never give him enough credit. He cleans the yard and mows the lawn. He changes diapers and never fusses when the baby busts in on him when he is taking a rare nap. (Me? I yell and tell him to lock the damn door on his way out of rescuing the littles from the fire-breathing mama.) I mean, sure. Deep deep down somewhere underneath the pot o' gold, he has a fault or two. But they are nothing compared to the fault cesspool of nastiness I claim as my own.
• We made these over the weekend. I find them quite amazing because when you make them and put them into pans, they look like giant misshapen doughy balls and you think inside your head that there is no way they are going to come out at all like they do for her, with their spirally gorgeousness...and magically, they do! Wow. The wonders of a magical oven, or recipe...or something. And they are so so good really. But. I ate way too many. And now I never ever ever want to see another cinnamon roll ever ever again in my whole entire life. Ever. Even if it is magical. Bleach. Gag. Pppttttfftt. Gross.