No joke.

My husband called me this morning, as usual. Only this time he actually DIDN'T call at the exact time that I was trying to get Bug down for a nap. He told me he is having a rough day already (it was only a quarter after 9am). Some guy had a stroke on the bus this morning on the way into work. So, he had to get transferred to another bus to get to work. Oh, and the reason he called was to inquire of the location of a key. I'm guessing it is a very important key. It was on the floor, under our bed. After he sighed a sigh of relief (glad to know the key wasn't completely lost) he told me to write a funny post on the blog today. Oh dear. Cue the writer's block. And I promise, none of what I have typed here so far is an April Fool's joke. None of it. I promise. Really.

And then I realized it was April Fool's day. People are supposed to be funny on April Fool's day. That means that my expectations for a SUPER AWESOME and HILARIOUS post today have been raised 100 fold. And I have writer's block. And a baby hanging, whining and biting my leg. These are the things I blog about, right? Why isn't it funny right now? So, I pull out my "Mother's Lamentations" paper, where I keep a list of my labels and ideas for future posts (all good control freak bloggers do this, right?). I'm about to cross off all the ideas on my list. They aren't good. They aren't funny. Well, maybe they would be if my brain could formulate some sarcastic, witty way to exaggerate the truth. Ok...now what. I guess my next reference would be Bug himself.

HOLY MACKEREL, BUG!!! He is sitting amidst a pile of CDs and DVDs. Any that aren't already out of place, are currently being violently flung out of place. The hole punch appears to have vomited on the floor (those little paper dots will be Bug's snack later today, I'm sure). And Bug is trying to eat the Juanes CD insert. My only picture of the Latin American Fabio, almost a casualty to baby slobber. Who next, Bug-a-boo, Josh Groban???

Well, here is an April Fool's day related lament, of sorts.

I remember one April Fool's day, my mom dyed our milk. And I couldn't drink it, because it bothered me to look at. I think one gallon was pink and the other was yellow. My mom liked to dye food. In our church, we have missionaries. Missionaries serve the church for two years. When they first come out, and for the first couple of months, they are called "Greenies". One time when we had a Greenie in our ward, my mom invited the missionaries over for dinner. We had our typical Sunday dinner...spaghetti. But, for the new guy, my mom dyed the spaghetti green. And the sauce. I don't know, but I'm pretty sure if you add green dye to red sauce, it just comes out looking gross. Really gross. Of course, we all ate it. And it tasted ok. But, the mind is a powerful thing. And that spaghetti looked gross. Really gross. Gross enough to send a missionary back home. No joke. In all honesty, we don't know if the "green" spaghetti really sent the guy back home, but he really did go back home shortly after the spaghetti incident.

Poor Mom.