Where I Send You Elsewhere
November 8, 2008
I won two awards this month.
Jessica, from Oh, the Joys! nominated me for a ROFL award for this post. Me and my boobs thank her.
My dear friend, Lindsay, from Suburban Turmoil, nominated me for a Perfect Post award for this post. You should head on over and read the rest of the posts that were nominated. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll add new (to you) blogs to your feed reader.
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I think I mentioned that I went to Butterball University, right? I thought there might be beer bongs and toga parties. And John Belushi. Have I just dated myself or what?
Although at Butterball they keep referring to us as “young moms” and it makes Susan and I indescribably giddy with happiness.
I have a post up about what it was really like to go to Butterball University and learn how to cook a turkey. The right way. So that you don’t have to stand at the oven with your fingers crossed praying to the cooking gods.
Or you can read about the very first time I cooked a turkey.
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Today my oldest son has to participate in his first fund raising effort to get money for the football team to travel to Florida. He will be standing outside the grocery store with fellow team mates asking for donations. My nine year old son really wants to go and help. I am inclined to let him since he is still small and cute and the old people just adore him and his dimples.
Funny story. I was telling the boys about the “can drive,” as it is called, and collecting money. My 9 yr old son blurts out, “Holding cans and asking for money? Like we are homeless?” Um, no. I mean, yes. I mean, no, not really since we want to go on a trip not have money for food. Uh, how about we just keep that to ourselves, m’kay?
So, wish us luck and generous people with large bills.
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