It's Here...

It's here, Gentle Reader.  It's here.  Max turns four on Saturday.

I can tell that a birthday party is imminent because I have an eczema rash break out all over my hands.  And I've had bad dreams for the past three nights.  (Last night I dreamed that the character Ron Swanson from the show Parks and Recreation was trying to kill me.  Only in my dream, his name wasn't Ron Swanson.  It was Ron Burgundy.  Chris thought this was hilarious this morning.  But I tell you, Gentle Reader.  It was not funny.  When someone with that bushy of a mustache is trying to kill you, be they Swanson or be they Burgundy, it is not funny. Not funny at all.

After the boys were in bed  last night I mentioned that I needed to make fondant.  (Of course I need to make fondant.  When one is making a three dimensional cake in the shape of a green dragon with blue polka dots per Max's request, one must make fondant.)  Chris threw a temper tantrum.  I hate birthday party time!  I hate it! You get so crazy!  And you have to prepare for a whole week!  I hate it!    Well.  He's a big baby.  What's he complaining about?  I'm the one with a rash all over my hands and running from a murderous mustache.

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