Why the high security on printer ink cartridges? My local CVS had them locked in place on their hooks in the aisle, and then I went to Staples where all the inks were entombed in gigantic see-through plastic boxes that could only be opened with a magic key at the register.
I get that they're small and expensive and prone to shoplifting, but seriously? Why don't we just surround the entire office supply department with barbed wire and landmines?
|Don't mind me. Just on my way to Staples to make sure nobody steals any ink.|
photo by Vivek Patankar
Normally I buy ink refill kits online because it's 10 times cheaper, but we'd run out and this was an emergency. I desperately needed to print out approximately one billion coloring pages because General Conference was coming, which involves encouraging my children to sit quietly for 8 hours listening to talks given by leaders of my church.
Conference was good, and when the kids finished their coloring pages, they put to good use their new window markers from Grandma and Grandpa:
|You're looking at a half-roll of paper towels and a clean-up time of infinity here. This stuff would not come off.|
We also let the kids choose a snack/treat to have when each speaker stood up to give a talk. I think their favorite talk was by Quentin L. Cook, who was assigned the Oreos and called "Quentin L. Cookies" for the rest of the day.
My favorite talk of General Conference was "Choose to Believe" by L. Whitney Clayton. I loved the message and it was illustrated with a compelling story that captivated even my kids. (When you say "plane crash," you've automatically got my son's undivided attention.)
If you can find 11 minutes of peace and quiet (which possibly won't happen until your youngest leaves for college, sorry) it's definitely worth a listen, no matter what your religion.
My son's elementary school treated us parents to a dramatization called "BUGZ." Through song and rhyming verse, the first grade (while dressed up like insects) taught us all a lesson or two about kindness. Namely that you shouldn't exclude the stinkbugs just because they stink.
I laughed, I cried, I was moved. And in the fall when actual stinkbugs start appearing inside the house, I might even feel a little bad for unceremoniously flushing them down the toilet.
Meet my daughter's class pet, Furball. He goes home with a different student every weekend, and returns to school with pictures of what he did at their house.
|Furball eating a S'more, possibly concerned about being dropped into the fire.|
|Furball being sorted into his house at Hogwarts. I think my kids are obsessed.|
And here are a few of the papers my son brought home from school this week, which suggest to me that (1) he may become the world's craziest amusement park designer when he grows up, but (2) probably not a best-selling novelist.
|People go up the conveyor belt, pull the lever and get shot into the swirly tube, which spits them back on the conveyor belt. |
I'm choosing to believe that my 6-year-old is designing a theme park ride and not a torture device.
|The prompt from the teacher is "Write a story about a chocolate bunny that comes to life."|
My son wrote, "One day a chocolate bunny was in a howse. He was bord. Then a humen ate him. He was scard."
If you want to join me for a stroll down memory lane, I'll be over here watching the original just like I remember it. If you want the dance mix, click play below and have a great weekend.