If you said pastel-colored mouse brains, that'd be a good guess, but no. Sorry.
They're candy-coated pistachios Phillip brought home from his latest work trip. I don't know where he finds this stuff.
We all tried a few and Phillip asked me, "How was it?"
"Like the world's most disappointing M&M."
"But they're healthier for you!"
"That's why I said 'world's most disappointing.'"
It's nice to have Phillip home for many reasons, but the thing I liked best was when he walked in the door and the toddler ran over to him, hugged his legs, and enthusiastically yelled, "Mommy!"
(One of our other children called me and everyone else he liked "Daddy" for a long time, so it's a nice change.)
Phillip was also glad to be home, because the flight from here to California is a killer, especially if you have to sit in a middle seat and you're 6'2" so your legs are too long to fit comfortably.
He also learned this time that you shouldn't wear short sleeves on a plane because if you have hairy arms, and the very large gentleman seated next to you also has short sleeves and hairy arms, you'll be folded up in a too-small seat accidentally brushing arm hair for 6 hours straight and it will make you want to jump out of the plane.
I'm pleased to announce that I've joined the rest of civilized society and gotten a smartphone. For why that's a shocking development, see this post about it or this one about my advanced-stage technophobia.
It only took me 4 missed calls to figure out how to answer it when it rings. I'd say it's going pretty well so far.
I've only gotten 3 or 4 migraines in my life, but they've always happened when I'm pregnant, so I wasn't terribly surprised when I got one this week.
This one was accompanied by a visual aura, which is freaktastic if you've never had it happen to you.
Mine are similar but the aura starts at the edges of my vision and gradually expands inward until whatever I'm looking at is clear but framed with a fizzy, pointy halo of colors.
I tried describing it to Phillip but he thought I'd just been doing illicit drugs.
Phillip has been updating his resumé lately (because that's what wild and crazy party animals like us do after the kids are in bed for the night and we can do whatever we want) and asked me to look it over for him.
I gave him some general pointers on syntax and grammar, but other than that I don't think I was much help.
He's a very technical person and I don't really understand what he even does all day (I can tell you he's a mechanical engineer but will probably just change the subject if you press for more details), so I'm afraid I only understood about 4 words of the entire thing.
Also, apparently in tech-speak, "architect" is a verb. I quit the English language.
A small boy about 4 years old approached me in the library yesterday and asked very politely, "Have you seen my mommy?"
I had no idea who the kid was, so I looked around and asked, "What is your mommy wearing?"
He surveyed the library for a minute saying, "It's like... it's like..." and then pointed at a lady and said "That!" and ran off.
Glad I could help, kid. Glad I could help.