Roasted Chicken

Brooke, it's a shame we weren't able to get the princesses together while you were down here. Clo and Sadie would've got along smashingly. Chloe would need a positive DNA test to prove that she is not, in fact, Cinderella. She has this tea set and she'll pile all these dishes on this tray and then drop it, grabbing her cheeks and exclaiming "the prince?!" - you know like when Cinderella finds out that the prince is going to marry whoever the shoe fits and drops the stepsisters breakfast tray. Yesterday we were in Payless and she was running around and with this fake, sing-song voice was saying - good-bye! good-bye! - like Cindy does when it's midnight. Silly.

I made my first roasted chicken today and it scared me. I mean it really scared me. Did you all know that they leave organs in those little suckers? Not to mention what seemed to be a tail as well as a neck? (Save the neck for me Clarke) I was totally dry heaving the whole time, shouting over my shoulder to Kev that he better enjoy it because it's the last one I'll ever make. Luckily it turned out very well. I just let the oven do the work, that's my secret. However, if I make it again I'm going to need latex gloves and a nine iron.

Darla, I loved your story about your mom. That was so perfect how you added that cough. I could just hear you saying it.

Anyway, we've kind of got Clo on a new schedule. We've decided it might be good for our marriage to be able to spend some time together. Alone. We put her to bed last night at 9 (as opposed to 11 or 12 with us). It was pretty cool. Apparently Kev likes long walks on the beach as well. It was weird to talk without using the phrase
do you want a time-out? Intermittently.

Anywho talk to you later, Leash