Going to my Happy Place

My husband was not as amused as I was about my post yesterday. He wanted me to be sure and set the record straight. We didn't just play softball. He took me to dinner AND to a play. I didn't mention it yesterday because it would have messed with the flow of my narrative. And because the name of the play would have brought some strange sorts to my website. People that really aren't looking for a rambling drivel of a blog. We went to see this political satire. Called "The Missionary Position." See!? I cannot wait to report what my sitemeter reports for the google searches that lead to hits on my site now.

So...today...we went to church...and Michael went back this afternoon to take the girls to the Easter Egg Hunt before his softball game (and in case you are wondering...they didn't lose by much...just 2-18...it was a nail bitter). And I was without children. For an entire afternoon. It was a momentous ocassion. And dangerous to boot. Because I was going to my happy place.

Target. Oh, how I love Target. And I do love to say it with a French twist - Tar-jay (how on earth do you phonetically spell that?!). It's my happy place. And the place that makes my husband's blood pressure rise, jaws clench, and impressions of his finger nails show up spontaneously on exposed pieces of skin. Because you can't just run into Target. It's a law that you must spend at least $100.

I like to follow the law. And then some. About a year ago, my mom and I went to Tar-jay for jar openers. Just jar openers. Somehow they cost $400. Look at them...they are that good:

So...today I went to Tar-jay. For Easter candy. Good stuff for $275. It is a happy place.

This afternoon, the girls decided that they needed to get into the hot tub. For those of you dealing with snow...you may want to look away. General mayhem ensued...

And then they got cold. They really didn't give the hot tub the opportunity to warm up.

(We must have forgotten to feed Katie today.)