Forks - are to be used for eating French Fries, Fish Sticks, raisins, bananas or anything that others might consider a "finger" food.  Keep in mind the harder you stab these items the better.  Also useful for stabbing anyone sitting close by.

Spoons - are to be used for eating peanut butter sandwiches, pizza and banging on the table.

Chopsticks - fit perfectly up your nose.

Hands  - are to be used for anything that is truly messy such as yogurt, applesauce and soup.  How else can you place these items in your nose or smear them into your hair like gel?  Hands  must be used.

Plates - One word says it all.....FRISBEE!

Fruit - Don't touch it...avoid like the plague.

Bread - Shove it in as fast as you can lest it suddenly disappear.  Don't worry about choking...mom is getting very experienced at the Heimlich maneuver. 

Above all, enjoy the whole experience with singing and laughter because food is truly the highlight of any day.  Besides, mom and dad had it waaaayyyy too easy with your neat, clean older sister so it's up to you to balance the scales at the dinner table.

I've always had a little OCD fetish with floors and bathrooms...they must be clean or I can't function.  While we were waiting to travel to get Jordan, I remember a friend telling me to enjoy my clean living room floor...it's days were numbered.  I refused to accept this and since Jordan is about as OCD as I am, I didn't really experience the "messy" living room syndrome after we got her.  However, it is a whole different story with Matthew.  This is a typical view of my living room floor. 

Notice the toys everywhere?  See the shreds of paper littering the floor?  The tipped over table?  The toy "parts" that came off of toys that I didn't even know came apart? 

Notice also the smiling, laughing cuties?  I've decided a clean floor is totally overrated!

Those of you who lurk here often (all 3 of you) may remember last spring/summer when we got 2 different kittens and each "ran" away.  One, Susie, ran into the jaws of the neighbors dog (shhhhhh...don't tell Jordan...we just say she's on a kitty vacation) and one, Matilda, just disappeared.  Ironically, Matilda reappeared about 2 months ago.  She's much larger now and is obviously being taken care of by someone else.  Every once in awhile she'll stop by for a visit, never staying for more than a few hours. 

Anyway, I had promised Jordan that once we were done traveling and had Matthew home for good, we could try getting another kitten.  This past Saturday there were 3 different cars in the Wal Mart parking lot giving away free kittens.  I took this as a sign and picked up 2...that's right...TWO.  In my attempt at Cat Psychology, I decided they'd be less likely to run away if they had a playmate.  Apparently I'd better give up my dreams of being a feline psychologist. 

Before we got home, the male kitten had jumped out of the box and had somehow crawled UNDER the enclosed console between the front seats.  After 20 minutes of trying to get him out, I finally had to take the console apart.  5 minutes later I had them both settled on the back porch when Matthew decided to "play" with them.  The male cat once again ran off...Jordan started sobbing, screaming bloody murder and hitting Matthew (because it was all his fault?).  Matthew started crying because he's being abused and Jordan was crying (common occurance).  After total meltdown on our back patio we spent the next 45 minutes looking for the kitten.  We finally found him and the delicate balance in life was once again restored.

However, the next morning Matthew had another "encounter" with the kittens (a pattern is emerging) and this time the female kitten ran under the neighbors fence, met their HUGE dog, and then jumped into their pool.  The water was down far enough that we knew she had no chance of getting out by herself.  So...I ring the neighbors doorbell...no answer...let myself into their back yard with the HUGE dog and start looking for the kitten.  It's nowhere in sight.  I know it couldn't climb out but the only thing I could see was huge piles of leaves at the bottom of the pool...leaves the same color as the kitten.  My heart sank.  I could only imagine how devestated Jordan was going to be.  So I got their leaf scooper thing and started exploring the leaf piles...no kitten.  After another 10 minutes, I discovered her in the covered filter...only her head above water.  Keep in mind it's about 35 degrees...she was kind of a popsickle kitten by this point.  As I was pulling her out of the filter, I heard someone say, "Ummmmm...Can I help you?"  My neighbor (one I don't really know) was standing there in her PJ's.  Oops.  At this point I was wondering how you go about returning free kittens that you got in the WalMart parking lot?

As of today, both kittens are alive and well...and for the moment are on our back porch.  However, the length of their stay seems dubious at best.  We haven't given them names yet because they keep running off.  Seems easier to handle if they don't have names.  But they've now been with us (more or less) for 4 days and .....WE NEED TO NAME THEM!  My favorite suggestion so far is Fred and Ginger (thank you Lisa)...Any suggestions?