Monday, November 29, 2010

If Scrooge Had Known About Shutterfly, He Would Have Been Less, Well... SCROOGISH

Every year I wrangle the children together for our annual Christmas card photo session and folks? It. Is Never. Fun.

You know what is fun? Using Shutterfly to design cool cards using those photos. And, while the photo session might take anywhere from one to five years off my lifespan, the ease with which I place my Shutterfly order makes the life I have left worth living.

Last night, I uploaded the pictures from my most recent session of banging my head against a wall our most recent photo session. Then, I perused the enormous collection of cards from which to choose this year’s design. It was no easy task considering how awesome all of the designs are, but, I found a few favorites, designs like this

 and this.

When I was finished creating my own unique card (which you will not be seeing because it is a surprise), I spent some time looking at the fun calendar designs offered by Shutterfly. Photo calendars would make an awesome gift for friends and family so; I’m thinking of doing a sports-themed one featuring The Teenager and the Man-Cub (they do play sports year-round, after all, perfect material for a calendar). And, by thinking about it, I mean totally not doing it, Mom and Dad; the two of you are getting socks and underwear for Christmas. Say thank you!

Oooh, speaking of saying thanks, I should order some neat thank you cards to give to all the people who are kind enough to think about us this holiday season, Shutterfly has them, too. In fact, Shutterfly is one-stop shopping for people like me who enjoy using their creativity to produce one-of-a-kind gifts. Also, for people like me who hate to fight the crowds in the stores and who prefer to do their shopping from the comfort of their own homes. With a stiff drink to dull the pain from banging their head against the wall steaming mug of cocoa in their hands.

In addition, Shutterfly’s prices can’t be beat; the cards I chose normally cost a mere .90 each and they are going to be beautiful. And, free.

Ebenezer would totally approve

Another Year Older, None the Wiser

I had another birthday yesterday which officially makes me OLD. And, you know, old isn’t so bad; I get to ignore my son’s pitiful pleas for yet another ridiculously over-priced Leggo set at the Hellmouth and blame it on age-related deafness. I can excuse myself from Wii bowling on the grounds that I might snap a hip and, I get to indulge in frequent afternoon naps because that is what old people do.

Two points for aging.

Of course, when I was younger, I thought that old people had all the answers, knew what to do in any situation as well as the right thing to say for every occasion. Now, since I don’t know jack shit about anything, I have to assume that I was wrong ; aging won’t automatically make me smarter and that sucks.

I’ll take my two points back, now.

Speaking of points, I’m totally considering joining Weight Watchers Online after the first of the year. I have heard that counting points is a really easy way to help lose weight and, since I only want to lose a few pounds, it shouldn’t take very long. Plus, joining the program entitles me to recipes from the website and, lately my culinary arsenal is empty; I need new ideas.

Plus, I read somewhere that you can eat as many Christmas cookies as you want, after January 1st because calories don’t count in Christmas cookies once the holiday is over.

That’s my kind of program.

And, yeah, none the wiser, obviously.


Friday, November 26, 2010

Black Friday: Blacker for Some than Others

I get the distinct impression that Otis the Hardware Store Cat doesn’t like his new holiday uniform…

First clue? He blew raspberries at the camera; I didn’t even know a cat could do that.

Then, he hid his face as though in shame; I think he is worried about losing street cred with the other tomcats in the neighborhood.

The Man-Cub gave him a straw and told him to suck it up…

...because, this could get a kid beat up in Middle School. You know, if word got out. Or, if your mother posted it to say, Facebook. Not that she would, or anything. I'm just sayin'.

Hmm, me thinks they call this leverage. Black Friday is starting to look up.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Things To Be Thankful For

Free range turkey that practically melts in your mouth.

Healthy, if not slightly strange, children.

A husband who is willing to put up the Christmas tree before the turkey carcass is even cold.

At least one more day together.

We are blessed.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

It’s Beginning to Smell a Lot Like Thanksgiving

There is a pumpkin pie baking in my oven, a pot of homemade turkey broth simmering on the stovetop and a pan of cranberry sauce merrily boiling away on the burner next to it; I’m feeling pretty smug about my culinary expertise right about now.

That is not to say that I have accomplished this all alone, indeed; the Man-Cub assisted in the making of the pie by seeding the pumpkins, peering anxiously into the oven as they roasted, pureeing the cooked pumpkin in the food processor, adding ingredients to the mixing bowl and pouring the batter into the pie shell. He is destined for a future as a pastry chef with his own reality television show, a line of high-priced exotic spices and a horde of groupies. Or, at the very least, he will be a connoisseur of pumpkin pie and there’s no shame in that.

Tomorrow, I plan to get an extra hour or so of sleep before wrestling Foghorn Leghorn (who, by the way was apparently a rooster, at least according to Wikipedia. Why did I think he was a turkey? I have no idea. Do I really care? No; my turkey looks like a Foghorn Leghorn therefore, he is) out of his salt bath. I’ve got the base of my stuffing ready to go so; I’ll just have to add vegetables, butter and broth to it before shoving it all up in Foghorn’s bidness and throwing him into the oven.

While he cooks, I’ll bake my rolls (double ovens, oh how I love thee!), prepare mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and sweet potato casserole. Also, during the day, I plan to watch the Macy’s parade with the kids while we decorate our Christmas tree. I’m also going to set up the rest of my decorations and, if the stars align just right, to take Christmas card photos of the kids. Really, though, since it will just be Hugh, the kids and me for dinner, I’m looking forward to it being a relaxed day.

And I’m thankful for that.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Preparing To Do Battle

My fresh-from-the-farmer (Grower? Rancher?)-turkey arrived today and I am pleased to report that he arrived both naked and headless. In addition, I’m relatively certain that the tasty bits of his innards are indeed safely tucked away in a little baggie located somewhere up his hoo-ha; I just haven’t had a chance to get all up in his business to make sure. Give me an hour or so.

Then, I plan to submerge Foghorn Leghorn in a bucket full of tasty brine where he will marinate for the next thirty-six hours before being subjected to a fisting with stuffing and a slow roast in a hot oven at which point my recurring nightmares featuring half-decapitated zombie turkeys armed with bloody basters and trussing twine will certainly cease in their entirety.

Fingers crossed.

Monday, November 22, 2010

If It Looks As Though I Could Burst Into Tears at Any Second, It’s Because I Could

Despite my optimistic nature and glass half-full philosophy of life, I find myself struggling to put a happy spin on a certain situation in my life, namely, the fact that my cat, Gilligan, is declining. Although the decline has been gradual, it has become extremely obvious over the past few days, the missed litter box fiasco being a symptom of the larger problem.

At this point, Gilly has lost most of his body weight despite eating from a menu fit for a king. When stroking his body, I picture my hands running over a soft bag of delicate bones and, lifting him to cuddle against my chest requires less energy than it would take me to lift a marmalade-colored whisper.

While climbing the fifteen stairs to the second floor of our home appears to present no problem to him; the task is accomplished at a slower pace than ever before and, descending the stairs doesn’t happen in any big hurry, either. His daytime naps are becoming even more frequent which is saying a lot for a cat who has always loved his naps and, it’s been a long time since he had the energy to bat at one of his cat toys.

I am just so sad about this. He was our first pet; coming to live with us as a tiny ginger puffball just days after we returned from our honeymoon. He spent the first few nights of his life with us sleeping in a tiny ball, nestled in Hugh’s armpit before adopting one of the pillows as his own. He was never very good about company, ignoring guests for the first day and throwing hissy-fits every day thereafter but; he was always loving and sweet toward the children and the dogs. He is agoraphobic, slightly anal about his space and completely in love with Hugh, whom he follows around the house until such time as the man finally offers him his lap.

He’s family and now, he’s failing and my heart is breaking and I can’t think of anything happy to say about that. Indeed, yesterday's joke about being able to replace my pets was the equivalent of whistling past the graveyard; if I joke about it, it won't happen. I wish that were true.

Really, I do.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Who Needs Babies? I Have Pets

A few years after the Man-Cub was born, I suffered from a wicked case of baby fever and, for just a few days; almost regretted my decision to have my tubes tied. Then, the Cub caught a particularly virulent case of stomach flu and, after two solid days of cleaning up barf, diarrhea and tears, I was pretty much over it.

This morning, I awoke to yet another pile of dog puke, a puddle of cat pee and a molten pile of someone’s diarrhea, probably the cat’s since it was a relatively small pile and was on a throw rug located in the vicinity of the litter box.

I have officially arrived at the conclusion that the only difference between raising pets and raising small people is the fact that pets require more vacuuming up after them which, as an aside, seriously, dog? Considering how much fur I empty from the vacuum canister every day, how do you have any hair left on your body?

And, I digress.

So, already this morning I have washed a load of laundry consisting of the covers to the dog’s beds since, that is what he soiled with his pukage, plus several towels used to sop up the puddle of cat pee (which was, conveniently, contained on the rubber mat placed under the litter box, making the accident less frustrating since it was clearly a near-miss of the litter box and not some jacked-up cry-for-attention cat thing and, the rags used to clean up the mystery-although more than likely cat generated-pile of poo.

This is exactly the kind of laundry I used to do when the kids were babies, so; please consider any possibility of baby fever for this girl to be OVER. Also, the next time one of the children casually mentions that it sure would be neat to get another puppy, you know, as company for Rowdie; manual strangulation of offending party may commence.

Ok, not really; I can replace my pets but I could never replace my children. Oh, hey! There’s another difference between the two! Huh.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Some Things Are Worth the Risk of Spending Eternity in Hell

Yesterday I had to run into the Hellmouth for a few items while the Man-Cub was at tutoring. When I got to the store, I grabbed the first cart offered to me by the senior citizen manning the front door and started on my way. After only a couple of feet it was obvious that the cart was a Thunker (first clue, loud thunking noise emanating from the right front wheel) so; I turned around and traded it for another cart which, as is my luck when it comes to all things Hellmouth, was also a Thunker. Two different Thunkers later and I simply resigned myself to the fact that the Hellmouth employs only damaged carts and I began my shopping, albeit ten times more aware of the thunking noises coming from every other cart that passed me as I browsed.

Seriously, thunk- thunk, thunk- thunk, thunk-thunk, ad infinitum.

Then, a miraculous turn of events! In the pet section, I needed to move someone else's unattended cart in order to reach my preferred brand of cat litter and,when I did, lo and behold, no thunking. None! It was as silent as one of my children when asked to confess to a particularly heinous crime.


I mean, the cart obviously belonged to someone else. But, you know, it was silent! So, I exchanged the items in the silent cart for the items in my cart (quick! Like a bunny!) and off I went, sans preferred litter but filled with euphoria over no longer having to listen to the grating noise of the Thunker.

Will I burn in Hell for this transgression? Maybe. Will my personal Hell feature an eternity of thunking noises? Probably. Did I care at that moment? Most certainly not.

As an aside, if you were shopping in the pet aisle of the local Hellmouth yesterday at around 4:00 Mountain Time and your perfectly quiet and reliable cart suddenly turned into a Thunker while you were debating the merits of canned salmon versus sliced beef; I’m sure it was just a coincidence.

Also, I would have gone with the sliced beef but, that’s just me.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Insert Wolf Whistle and Fist Pump Here

People Magazine just named Ryan Reynolds as the Sexiest Man Alive, saving me from having to boycott the magazine's very existence as would have been the case had they tried to shove that fickle Brad Pitt down the throats of the American public.

People Magazine, I applaud you and, not just because Ryan Reynolds is the new Green Lantern, which makes my nerdy little geek heart swell to three times it's normal size.

Although, there is that.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

This Post Brought to You by Nothing in Particular and Many Things in General

I started listening to Christmas carols on my car stereo today; it is only a matter of time before we are inundated with them in the stores so I figured what the hell? Might as well get a refresher course on the Jingle Bell lyrics.

I made ham, roasted potatoes in cheddar sauce and garlic bay biscuits for dinner tonight which, if you believe my children, totally threw the planet off it’s’ axis, causing it to spin completely out of control. Why so, you may ask and, I shall tell you; because it isn’t a holiday. That’s right; apparently, I am only capable of making ham on a holiday, preferably one involving the imminent arrival of a particular jolly old elf. Where have I gone wrong with these children, I ask you.

The Sexiest Man Alive edition of People magazine comes out this week and rumor has it that Brad Pitt will take top honor. If this should happen, People magazine is dead to me. Dead.

Prince William announced his engagement to Kate Middleton today. My dream of one day seeing The Teenager walk down the aisle wearing a diamond tiara and dragging a fifty foot train has been crushed, crushed, I say.

Gwenyth Paltrow is guest starring on Glee. HATE.

I just finished the last carton of Ben & Jerry’s carrot cake ice cream. It was a limited batch and I cannot replace it. Woe.

That is all.

Monday, November 15, 2010

All’s Well That Ends…Without Bloodshed

My day with The Teenager went quite well. We enjoyed several hours of shopping, indulged in peppermint mochas at Starbucks, gorged ourselves on Chinese (food, in case you were confused. Or,you know, nervous if you happen to be Chinese), volunteered an hour of our time at the fundraiser set-up and managed to stay awake through Neil Simon’s Broadway Bound at the local community theater; the staying awake part being a bigger challenge for The Teenager than for me since I actually enjoy theater while she would prefer ritualistic torture to bettering herself through culture. And, yes, if you asked her; I’m sure she would say they are one and the same.

Anyhoo. Time spent with my daughter in any endeavour is time well spent and I plan to arrange another Girl’s Day, soon.

The boys, on the other hand, didn’t fare quite as well and, despite two consecutive days of stalking through the woods in knee-deep snow, Bambi lives. On the bright side, no one got frostbite or, you know, shot their eye out.

Moving on…

…work today went well. I got the last of the Christmas displays done at the store, despite the antics of one pain-in-the-ass juvenile feline who, in news not entirely coincidental, will be getting his testicles snipped off by the end of the month. Unfortunately, the mere threat of castration has no discernible effect on the cat’s determination to ruin each and every festive holiday display that I set up but, that won’t keep me from shaking my fist at him while bellowing “Off with your nuts!” as he absconds with yet another ribbon streamer, bow or jingle bell. As an aside, I wonder if cat testicles could be fashioned into a set of click-clacks.


Wait, you want to do what with my balls?

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Girls Day, No Weapons Allowed

The Teenager and I are spending the day together. First, we have to take the centerpiece I made for my women's club fundraiser to the bank at which the fundraising event will be held next Friday evening. While we are there, we are going to help the ladies set up the venue, checking out each of the festively decorated trees, centerpieces, wreaths and gift baskets. Then, we are going shopping, out to lunch, to more stores for more shopping, attending a holiday open house at a boutique owned by one of my friends, going to dinner and, finally, finishing the night at a performance of Broadway Bound at the local community theater. It’s going to be a full day and we are looking forward to it.

Plus, it will give me a chance to tease The Teenager about The Crush, which just never gets old. For me; I imagine it will start to wear thin on her right around, oh, noon or so. Maybe earlier.

Speaking of The Crush, Thursday night's dinner went quite well. That is, if you disregard the part where Hugh met the young man at the door with a gun. Oh yes, he did. And, while there is a rather long and boring story behind it (short version: he and the Man-Cub are going hunting today and he was checking their equipment so they would be ready to go), I find it far more entertaining to say that he was trying to be intimidating.

Which didn’t work at all, by the way; The Crush seemed quite unruffled and comfortable in our home. He even joked about the gun and volunteered that it could have been worse; Hugh could have met him at the door with a gun and a shovel. I think he’s going to fit in with this family and I’m guessing that, if nothing else; he and The Teenager will have a long and beautiful friendship. Minus any touchy-feely nonsense, of course, otherwise; there may very well be a gun and a shovel in his future.

And, while we are on the topic of Hugh’s guns, I will reiterate the fact that the boys are hunting today. My baby is traipsing through the woods on his first hunt. With a loaded gun; I’m going to need to focus on all the shopping that The Teenager and I are going to be doing just to keep my mind off this fact. And, while I hope he bags his first kill (gag), The Teenager and I will be bagging our own prey, starting at Sephora and working our way to the local chocolatier. For the record though, all the season-scented body wash, new make-up pallets and hand-dipped caramels in the world won’t ease my worries until we are all home safe and sound tonight.

That’s how I roll.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Hello, Winter, It’s….Nice to See You?

Woke up to a light skiff of snow this morning which was a slightly more pleasant discovery than the pile of dog puke that awaited me on the throw rug by the back door but, only slightly.

I’m just not ready for freezing temperatures, shoveling snow and arguing with my son over whether or not he should wear a hat when shooting baskets outdoors (he should). I am, however, ready to break out my cute snow boots but, only because they are really, really cute and because they go so nicely with my wool pea coat and the jaunty little beret that I purchased on clearance at Old Navy last spring, otherwise, yeah; not ready to dance with Old Man Winter.

Something else I’m not quite ready for? Cooking dinner for The Teenager’s boyfriend “special friend”, AKA, The Crush but, that’s exactly what I’m doing tonight. On the one hand, it will be a nice chance for us all to get to know each other better. On the other hand, Hugh will have to fight the temptation to practice his intimidation skills and I’m expecting a conversation peppered with vague threats featuring the words shotgun and shovel to feature on the menu.

Oh, and spaghetti, one of the few foods The Teenager has deemed non-embarrassing to eat in front of company.

So, yes, I’m hosting winter and The Crush this evening; fingers crossed that the dog doesn’t feel the need to do a repeat performance of the exorcist on my carpets because; a girl can only take so much and, The Teenager would be mortified.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Well, It Was Nice While It Lasted

Last night The Teenager and I attended an informational meeting for an elite traveling volleyball club that she is interested in trying out for; I have no reason to believe that she won’t make the team.

Today, I registered the Man-Cub for basketball, a sport that he has never played competitively but that he has decided to try his hand at; I have no reason to believe that he won’t be great at it.

I'm grateful for my kids' athletic ability and for having the means to support them as they strive to reach their goals.

Both kids will start practicing in December with weekly tournaments to follow right up until The Teenager starts spring track and the Cub starts wrestling so; I’m also really grateful that Hugh and I invested in the good stadium seats from the Booster Club as bleacher butt is sooo unattractive.

So, we are going to be getting really busy, again. That's ok, I didn’t need all this free time, anyway. Really, relaxation is so overrated.

Le sigh.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

Earlier and Earlier and Earlier

Remember when you were a kid and it seemed like the time between Halloween and Thanksgiving lasted forever? And, then, the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas seemed to just drag on and on and on? Yeah. I miss those days.

As it stands, now, there is no downtime between Halloween and Christmas, we simply blow the candle out in the last jack-o-lantern and start hanging the holly and the ivy. This is especially true when one is involved in the retail trade as I have learned since joining Hugh at the hardware store.

For example, I put the finishing touches on our holiday window display today and, while I’m quite proud of the work I did and I really love the finished product, I am concerned about running into Holiday Burn-Out. My parents are joining us for Christmas this year and I really don’t want to be completely jaded and Scrooge-like by the time they arrive, rather; I want to be jolly and relaxed and to provide everyone with a picture-perfect holiday.

To that end, I have informed my store manager that we will, no matter what it takes; finish decking the store halls by the beginning of next week. That way, I can take a break from decorating until Thanksgiving when I will start on my home decorations. This seems like a reasonable plan and the best possible way to avoid having my head spin right off my body.

In theory.

In actuality, my head will spin off right around this time next week, anyway.

Sunday, November 07, 2010

There’s No Going Back Now

I just reserved my fresh Thanksgiving turkey from a local turkey farmer, an actual turkey farmer! Rancher? Grower? I have no idea. I also have no idea what form a fresh turkey arrives in from the turkey farmer/rancher/grower but, am really hoping it doesn’t involve the need for me to chop off any vital body parts, such as a head. I never would have imagined such a possibility had it not been suggested by the Man-Cub who, on a totally unrelated topic, has his very first pimple.

This latest development seems to have left him, in equal parts, proud and embarrassed and is obviously quite a big deal to the Cub. In fact, he seemed genuinely nonplussed when he asked me when I had gotten my first pimple and I could not recall; the offhand comment I made about my mother neglecting to note the date in my baby book being far less well-received than one might hope. Pre-teens, so prickly.

Also prickly? Turkey feathers. Which I just pictured arriving, intact, on my Thanksgiving bird. That doesn’t happen, right? Farm-fresh turkeys still arrive at your home naked, headless and with their innards in a nice little baggie, right?

Please, someone, tell me I’m right. All this stressing is likely to cause me to break out in pimples of my own and, should that happen, I would be decidedly less proud than the Cub, I assure you.

Friday, November 05, 2010


If there was ever a thing to be grateful for, it is the fact that today is Friday. I have had an exhausting week which makes no sense to me whatsoever considering the fact that my children no longer require my presence at sporting events; where does my time go?

Speaking of my children, I am proud to report that they both made the school honor roll. Bumper stickers are on order although, The Teenager has threatened to disavow any knowledge of a relationship between us should I actually display said bumper sticker on my car.

She may change her mind as I have assured her that the alternative involves me displaying said bumper sticker on poster board while walking a circuit in front of her school, picket-line fashion, while wearing a t-shirt bearing her photo and the words PROUD MAMA OF THE TEENAGER!

On a totally unrelated topic, I think I heard her weeping in her sleep last night; can’t imagine what could have given her nightmares. Huh.

Anyway, it’s Friday. Tomorrow I get to sleep in and, while getting a mere additional hour of sleep constitutes sleeping in for me; I am really looking forward to it.

Then, I am attending a brunch hosted by one of the women in my woman’s club; we will be working on holiday decorations for our upcoming fundraiser and, experience has taught us that it is always more productive to work on these things in a group as we seem to be more creative, the work gets done faster and, we brainstorm ideas for the next event.

Bloody Marys and Mimosas may be to blame. Or, to credit, either way.

Sunday, I am planning to clean the house from top to bottom. It is my month to host Book Club and I don’t really want my guests to leave my home wearing cat and dog hair on their asses which, is bound to happen if I don’t vacuum my couches. Thank goodness for my new vacuum cleaner; it sucks like a two dollar whore.

As an aside, how well does a two dollar whore really suck? Would a four dollar whore suck twice as hard? I really don’t understand that analogy at all.

Oh well! TGIF!

Wednesday, November 03, 2010


November is the month in which we express our gratitude for the blessings bestowed upon us and I have decided to spend the month naming at least one thing for which I am grateful each day. Today, I am grateful for the gorgeous weather we are having. I cannot remember another autumn this warm or colorful and I am especially grateful for it given the crappy spring weather we had earlier in the year and the windy summer to which we were subjected.

Granted, the nice weather can’t last and winter is bound to rear its’ frigid head sooner rather than later but, for now; I shall enjoy the warmth of the sun on my face as I stroll amongst the brittle leaves as they fall gently from the trees, grateful for each step.

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

How to Put a Major Cramp in Your Daughter’s Lovelife

So, The Teenager has a new crush. I say crush because, while the object of her affection appears to return her feelings of adoration , I am loathe to call him her boyfriend considering the fact that he is sixteen and a junior in High School.

What's that you say? She’s almost fifteen and she’s a freshman in High School, so what’s the big deal? Well, I’ll tell you what the big deal is; two years age difference, a driver’s license, and he’s a boy, that’s what.

Excuse me while I breath into a paper bag for just a minute....

So, yeah; The Teenager is crushing on a junior whom we will not allow her to date until such time as: she, herself, is sixteen, also has a driver’s license (although, no car), has successfully completed her father’s course on self defense and has been fitted for a regulation chastity belt.

That’s really not asking so much, now, is it?

In the meantime, because we recognize her need for some semblance of a social life, The Teenager will be allowed to spend time in the company of The Crush under very controlled circumstances. Namely, her brother will accompany her.

This worked out really well for us on Halloween; The Teenager was allowed to wander about town with The Crush and a group of their mutual friends as long as the Man-Cub was with her. This was win-win for all of us; The Teenager got to spend time with The Crush, the Cub got to trick-or-treat, I got to stay home to hand out candy to the various ghosts, ghouls and goblins who visited our front porch and Hugh got to cruise around in the squad car, shining the spotlight on The Teenager’s group at random intervals throughout the evening.

Who could ask for a better compromise?

If you just said The Teenager, you win a cookie.

Apparently, having one’s younger brother along on a faux-date constitutes a major buzz-kill; probably because said younger brother spent a large portion of the evening walking between the teenagers, reminding the teenagers of his parent’s strict hands-off policy and saying snip, snip to The Crush while making scissor motions with his fingers all of which killed whatever mood The Teenager was hoping for.

Who would have guessed that would happen?

Oh, that’s right, we did, see above: title of this post.

But, seriously, can you blame us?