THE JACKPACK

Big word, huh?   All of you literary geniuses out there who think you're so studly can debate my usage, but Mom says that's what I should call this post.  Oh, I bet most of you literary geniuses are unemployed because you decided to get a liberal arts degree instead of studying something more worthwhile to society.  So, I'm throwing you a bone.  Go debate my title.  Heck, write a thousand page analysis about how it's sexist and denigrates "womyn."  Ok...rant against liberal arts majors done.  Now, to my post... Today, Mom was carrying me into the post office when the strangest thing happened.  Someone kicked me in the leg and basically said, "MOVE!"  My knee-jerk reaction, "YOU move!  I was here first." Again, I got kicked.  "MOVE, fatty!  It's my turn to be here." At this point, I wanted some third-party intervention, "MOM!  Someone keeps kicking me!!!" [Mom's sidenote: Carrying Jack to the post offi...

...you see that Mom has inadvertently left a three-layer cake on the edge of the counter, figure out that it is within your reach, and go to town on the frosting -- all of this while she's washing dishes and completely oblivious to your amazing feat!  Yes, folks, by the time Mom found out that I was standing behind her and swiping frosting off the cake, I was too cute a picture.  Sold!  Deliciousness! P.S. Mom thought the frosting was a disaster; I thought it was pure heaven!) (Can't wait until Mom starts working on Dad's birthday cake this week.  Hopefully, she'll be as careless.) Yes! Swwweeettness!  Cake, you're all MINE! Oops.  Hi, Mom! Some tip-toe action!