Sometimes I think I should don a big pointy dunce cap, sit on a stool facing the corner and stick my nose on the wall. Or perhaps I should just throw my camera in the Potomac River and forget the piece of junk ever existed.
I sound a wee bit melodramatic, no?
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having camera issues. Again.
And I’m so very annoyed with myself and the stupid camera.
On the bright side, it wasn’t as if I lost pictures of something monumentally important. But on the dark side, my mug shot should be positioned under the words “operator error” in the dictionary.
So humor me and pretend you see a picture of a completely empty almond butter jar. Do you see it? Can you imagine a glass jar pretty much scraped clean with just a few bits of almond butter remaining on the very bottom? You know, the part of the jar where the bottom meets the sides. It’s almost impossible to retrieve the stuff that gets stuck in those crevices.
Two weeks ago I mentioned that I bought a jar of almond butter at Trader Joes during my wild goose chase for Caroline’s antibiotic. My initial reaction to the almond butter was that is was simply ok. In my opinion it would benefit from a touch of salt or sugar. Heck, in my opinion, just about everything would taste better with a bit or salt and/or sugar added.
Well, if you could see the picture I took of the empty almond butter jar and a second picture of me sheepishly holding the same empty jar, you’d immediately conclude that the stuff grew on me.
I still think it needs some salt, but it only took me 16 days to eat the entire jar. In my opinion, that’s enough evidence to prove that almond butter ain’t half bad.
I probably won’t go out of my way to buy another jar, but if I’m in the vicinity of Trader Joes, I’d definitely buy more.
I hope my camera bucks up and starts to cooperate; we’re headed to Williamsburg on Wednesday. A good mother (and blogger) should return from a trip with many pictures documenting their mini vacation. In the event that my camera acts like it has been of late, just assume that there will be many pictures of Caroline at the pool. As exciting as our trip sounds, with trips to Busch Gardens, Colonial Williamsburg and a water park, with a name that escapes me now, on tap, I’m quite confident that Caroline will be happiest in the hotel pool.
If she preferred the pool at Shades of Green (the military resort at WDW) over the enchantment of the Magic Kingdom, it’s quite likely she’ll feel the same way at Williamsburg.
Well, except for the day we go to the water park.
She just might be part fish.
Too bad her mom prefers land.
I’m not afraid of water but I sure am afraid of bathing suits.