I love that guy. Not because he's the evil villian, but because he's just so jaunty. A protagonist could never walk with such swagger.
This is awesome:
In other news, I haven't blogged in a while because I've been too busy with these awesome things:
Indexing! The indexing reps in our ward send a basket full of goodies around RS/Priesthood every week for those who have indexed ... or who swear on their firstborn's blessing outfit that they will index later in the day. So did I ever index? No. Did I ever want the candy/snickerdoodles/sugar cookies in the basket? Every flipping week. Did I take them without earning them? Twice. On accident. Not the taking, but the forgetting to keep up my end of the bargain was the accident. So I came clean and decided to do two batches to even up my score (because that's how you get into heaven/don't get called to nursery, duh).
Then I got addicted! But it's a righteous addiction, so it doesn't count. It's funny, as I'm reading the scrawly handwriting of some British census taker, I subconsciously think of him (of course it's a him) as educated and bookish. Probably has buckles on his shoes, you know. Crappy, infuriating handwriting that makes me wonder if the souls of those whose names he's illegibly recorded are tormenting him in the spirit world because he's the reason their descendents don't know they exist ... tangent.
But today Nathan pointed out that the census takers then were probably what they are today--bums needing a temporary job (sorry cousin Terisa. I know you worked for the last census, and you are not a bum! You are the exception). So this gives me greater reason to be bugged by them. They have horrible penmanship and they probably live in their mother's cellar where they play British video games all day while they eat Digestives. Gah! (Full disclosure: I only started indexing again a week ago.)
|Attack of the Cuteyerdly Lion|
What else have I been doing? Raising a kick-diaper baby. Graham is awesome. He crawls. He climbs. He succumbs to sleep training (no judging ...). He bites to show love (I hope that's what he's trying to show). He points. He gives high fives. He gives kisses (the best!). He breathes like an asthmatic robot because it gets him attention. He likes acorn squash. He was a lion for Halloween.
What else have I been doing?
Playing intramural soccer with my sister Katie and losing in the tournament to a bunch of super in-shape dorks who are probably still dating their high school boyfriends. When did super wide sports headbands become a thing? Psh. Go ahead and steal the championship t-shirt from me, young fillies, but guess what? I don't have to share my fridge with five other girls anymore. That's true glory.