Tonight I made donuts for dinner. I know. Donuts. I feel so guilty eating them because I used almost a half a bottle of canola oil to make a batch and only a thin amount was left on the bottom of the fryer when I was done. Talk about soaking up the fat. Imagine if you ate some of those things regularly. Sheesh.
If any of you have any idea where the bottle of allergy pills are that I just bought please inform me. I have been searching for them for two days. I hate losing things. I about had a heart attack when I went to the cupboard to get them and they were not there. The day before I had my daughter (who is five) dole them out to all who needed one for the day and she swears she put them on the counter. I had a hard time believing her. This is coming from the girl who took my keys one day and hid them under a tree. "If you know where my keys are," I said desperately, "please tell me." I was so persistent. It got me places though because, sure enough, she stepped outside for a bit, walked back upstairs where I was standing, and handed me the set of keys with some grass and roots stuck to them. I could not scream at her because a real estate agent and her pack of nerdy prospects were in the house and I had to maintain my composure. I had to get out of there too. But this is an old post.
So, you can understand how I do not trust my girl. She is so wonderful, so sweet, so loving, but she is sort of sneaky. Girls are sneaky. I have pretty much torn the house apart though. When the phone rings I practically think it is someone who will say on the other line: "Your allergy pills are in the hole in the tree in the front yard."
No, I have not looked in the hole in the tree. I have looked (believe it or not) in the shed, in a bucket outside, in the red wagon, under leaves, on the porch, on top of the frige, in every drawer and crack known to man, in every cabinet, down the sink (I am nuts), in the trash (even the outside trash), in every room except the boys' room, every bathroom, under anything that can possibly have room for a bottle to roll under (including the treadmill) behind the piano, behind the stove---everywhere.
I saw a kid show today called Kipper the Dog and he was looking for something important to him. Dear Sir said, "Hey! That's like the allergy pills!"
I have even looked in vases and various other little holes. Girls are sneaky, I tell you. Sneaky.