Jack and I visited the grandparents today while Mike stayed home and tried to catch up on work. That can only mean one thing. When I came home, the grandest funk greeted me. It smelled like Mike had been canning pickles. The pungent smell of dill seemed to be in the air. Well, Mike made gumbo and insisted it was a fish smell. I'm still looking around for the glass jars of pickles.
Jack and I attended a Tastefully Simple party at my SIL's today. While we were there, Jack seemed enraptured by a couple of ladies' painted toes. Now, grant it, my toes were painted but held little fascination for him. I hope he does not become some foot fetish perv that hangs out at beaches and parks and steals women's shoes. I guess I'll have to start painting my Fred Flinstone feet. Normally, I don't mess with nail polish because I don't like to draw extra attention to my feet. But I have a couple of nail polish shades, including black. Thanks EE. I guess I have a good reason to go Goth now.
I hope everyone had a good weekend. The Olympic games begin this week!