It is a GO-ZILLION degrees here in Kansas City. That's OK, though, because Jay bought me a slushie maker for our anniversary. Isn't that the traditional eighth-anniversary gift? The first anniversary is paper, the fiftieth anniversary is gold, the eighth anniversary is ... slushie maker. All of you Kansas Citians who are ready to wilt, just stop on by our house for a slushie. We have bubble gum, sour apple, and root beer. Each slushie has probably 80 grams of sugar in it. It's enough to make you go crazy Broadway style!
In other news, Jay's mom is here staying with us, so we were able to leave the house TWICE, like normal people. I set foot in a movie theater for the first time in over a year and got popcorn and everything. We saw Superman Returns. I think what I love most about the Superman movies is how stupid everyone is at The Daily Planet. Nobody noticed that Clark Kent returned from his five-year "vacation" on the same day that Superman returned from his five-year trip to his home world? Isn't Lois Lane supposed to be an investigative reporter? I spent four years in a college newspaper office, which mostly consisted of people who wanted to eat pizza, use the graphic designers' computers to play Tetris, and write reviews of the new Smashing Pumpkins CD, and I think even we would have picked up on that one. I'm starting to think The Daily Planet isn't a very good paper. Do you think the people of Metropolis just laugh at it and get all of their news from CNN?
On Friday, we actually went out to dinner. We made a feeble attempt to rejoin adult society by choosing a restaurant that lacked crayons, costumed characters handing out balloons, grilled cheese on the menu, or plastic silverware. Despite our sophisticated surroundings, it only took about five minutes for the conversation to turn back to the new hot topic at our house: "Why does WCB always get a poopy diaper the second you set her in the crib?"
"It's like the crib just makes her poop," said Jay, just as an unsuspecting waitress arrived at our table to take our drink orders. Busted. We are not ready to survive in crayon-free society.