Try this one on for size

I came to the hysterical realization the other day that Colbie Caillat could easily be singing about a fart in her song "Bubbly." Check it out.

Note to self...don't laugh

I've been babysitting the twins about once a week since the beginning of the summer, and they're oddly well-behaved. Just good-natured kids who would rather have fun than argue about something. But last night we spent an hour problem solving about, yes, you guessed it, their life-consuming hobby--four leaf clovers. A dispute arose (after we laminated, cut, sorted, and counted about 400 four, five, and six leaf clovers) over one special clover and to whom it belonged. I tried my very best to take them seriously (I stopped laughing when I saw little lips quivering and little eyes fillng up with tears) as they discussed how each one knew the disupted clover was hers. "I just know it's mine because it has the three leaves and the one big odd leaf and and and..." "I just know it's mine because she has lots of those kinds and I only had a couple and it was really special to me and and and..." Yes, I did take a break to leave the room and laugh silently in the hall. It made me think about moms and how hard it must be to take your kids seriously some of the time. I remember being furious when my mom laughed at me a couple times (who wouldn't. I was ridiculous.) In the end, they came to a solution and we had enough time for fake moustaches and pretend car thievery, so I'd say it worked out. :)

My new favorite phrases involve the word "Mrs." Usually the people I say it to are not married. For example, I called my sister "Mrs. Turd Wagon," to which she insists she did not respond. My ultimate favorite is "Mrs. Meow Mix." Plops off your tongue excellently. I thought I would give a vocab update for those of you who are not in the loop with my latest vernacular.

In the weather segment of this news broadcast, well, things are getting colder and my roommates informed me that I couldn't wear a t-shirt and shorts last night. Lame.

My thoughts on tea...

One time when my sister and I were little, my mom decided we should have an all-out tea party. So we dressed up, made little sandwiches, got out teacups and saucers and doilies and honey and sugar and and and...Of course my mom would suggest that we use British accents and names. We came up with names like Mrs. Witherspoon. Then it was my sister's turn to pick a name. She solemnly stuck her little nose in the air and with her best British accent she introduced what she thought would be a perfectly acceptable modification of Peabody, "I suggest Mrs. Peabrain." My mom and I erupted in laughter and Anne never did live it down.

When the climactic moment came to drink our tea, after we had added honey and lemon and all those glamorous things people write about in books, we raised our cups and swallowed a sip. Anne and I promptly spit it back in the cup because we were young enough to get away with that sort of thing. I said it tasted like stewed weeds and held that opinion for several years.

Last year or so, I learned to like tea. Quite a bit, actually. To the point where I drink it without anything added. But the other day I had a thought about the tea industry. While I'm sure some tea is legitimate, how do we know it started that way? I'm pretty sure some brilliant villageperson wandered out and started hacking down weeds and plants no one wanted. Then he said to himself, "I'm going to package this in cutesy bags and sell it for millions to unsuspecting rich people." So maybe tea really is just stewed weeds. Look at it sometime. Outside the bag, it just looks like someone mowed their lawn and then dispensed it into little bags. I should start my own company and call it something swank like "Lonti" and only I will know it means "Lawn Tea" as in, "This tea was mowed from my back yard."

Today I worked at a different coffee shop than I usually do in order to fill in for someone else. While there, my fly swatting prowess became obvious and the other barista said, "We should call you Fly Slayer!"

Little did she know that I gave that nickname to myself two days ago.

Tonight all the roommates and I, plus the twins, learned, or re-learned, the fine art of...

Double Dutch.

Did we look ridiculous? Mildly. Was it awesome? Yes. Some new favorite quotes are below, not necessarily from tonight.

"Yeah, I read a lot of books about unicorns when I was a kid." -my coworker
"Let's just face it, some political figures should really be turned into cucumbers." -my mentor