Snappshots First Annual CONE OFF at the Park

Weird food competitions at the park seem to be the new Friday tradition. Last Friday, you might have observed my attempt at eating a tomato. Contrary to popular hypothesis, I did not actually throw up that tomato. I gagged. A lot. And I would have thrown up if I had continued. Instead, I spat it out and chucked it. And that was that.

Today was a McDonalds vanilla cone eat-off with Erin the Organizer and Jessie the Icecreamater. In the video, I referred to Erin as the Devourer. (I cannot say that out loud. I tried three times and bungled it every time.) But Erin the Organizer stands, because she strategically planned out her cone eating agenda. Top, top, side, side, bottom, bottom.

Watch. And be amazed. Be very amazed.

I laugh every time I watch this for a few reasons:

  • Jessie is adorable. I got beat by a 7 year old.
  • Erin is FIERCE. I had no idea what I was dealing with. You can tell that by my passive Mary Poppins around-the-cone eating pattern that I chose. What was I thinking. She was T-Rex eating rabbit whole. You can almost hear the bones crunching.
  • Things are popping out all over on Erin’s face due to the intense focus. It’s intense. Watch it more than once.
  • I went on with my Mary Poppins thing long after she had won. Dummy.
  • My son, Mamasboy, is loitering in the background. What must¬† he think of me and of his upbringing? I should ask him. Except I’m afraid of what he’ll say.
  • The Informinator was betting on Erin. Traitor.
  • Two others were rooting for Jessie. Whatever.

Same time next Friday for a Food Off.

Throwback Thursday

I know I shouldn’t post this, but it took me back to the days of potty training the Squishy. She put me THROUGH IT, let me tell you. I’m sure I lost some very valuable days off my life expectancy just in following her around and trying to determine when her self-imposed constipation would finally end. If you don’t like gross stories, don’t read this one. It’s Throwback Thursday.

Just now I was dancing like a fiend to Somebody to Love by Justin Bieber. While trying to dance my flab away, SnuggleMonkey had to “go.” Since she refuses to do her business in a potty she could fall into, she uses the $22 Target training pot. It is difficult to clean a bottom while still dancing. I did.

Then, still dancing, I carried the “success” (though in many ways it was horrific) to the actual pot to flush. In that process, still dancing, I began to gag. Still dancing and now also gagging, I emptied the evidence and flushed. Gagging worse now and dancing not quite so much, I tried to clean the Target pot.

And then, no longer dancing at all, I threw up. Twice. And now I look like someone being treated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have GOT to get her using the regular pot.

All gagging aside now, I gotta go. Back to dancing.  Hasta.