My SoN: THe PeRV

Dear ComplicatedBoy,

I don't know how it happened. One minute you were wearing a different Wiggles's shirt Every Single Day for an entire year, the next you were asking me what s-c-a-n-t-i-l-y-c-l-a-d spelled. One day we were cuddling together reading Clifford The Big Red Dog, the next you were in the bathroom for half an hour with the Victoria Secret catalog. You used to draw superheros. Last month we found that you had filled an entire notebook with boobs.

You are Seven. Which is like three, in Mommy years.

I complained to my friends who told me the problem was--as it usually is--Me and the Parenting Decisions I Have Made. Apparently, all the other boys in your class have known about the Birds and the Bees for at least a year now, while I was leading you to believe that babies came from hospitals.

Once my friends clued me in to the fact that everyone else in your class knew the Facts of Life, I became worried that you would learn an incorrect version of them from one of your buddies on the playground--I could just picture Dominic telling you that girls got pregnant from eating meatballs-- so I took the next opportunity-which happened to be a 45 minute car ride-to tell you EVERYTHING. I just blurted it all out in a matter-of-fact way from the front seat, and let you know it was ok to ask any questions, anytime. And you asked: CAN WE WATCH THE SCOOBY DOO DVD, ALREADY?

Maybe I told you TOO much, because the other day you announced that you were the "Go To S-E-X Guy." A Seven Year Old Dr. Ruth. Classmates were lining up for playdates with you.

"That's enough," I said firmly: " It's ok to ask questions, but you need to stop being the Sex Guru with your friends. It's not appropriate. You need to stop. WE NEED TO NIP THIS IN THE BUD."

You turned to me, eyes wide and said
"Mom... did you just say NIPPLE?"

I'm still hopeful that you'll turn out ok.

XO
Love,
mommy

THe ReTuRNS

Hello Chickens: I hope you all had a Very Merry!! We had a wonderful Christmas and returned yesterday (along with some socks and a shirt that was too big.)

Driving home, The Spawn were oddly quiet. A half hour into the trip, Bananna commented that the pears she had been eating were delicious. Five minutes later it dawned on me that I had not packed pears. Bananna had managed to locate some sliced apples that had been languishing in a ziploc baggie in the backseat for Lord Knows How Many Days. Brown, fuzzy, mold covered apple slices that apparently tasted somewhat like pears. The only thing that offset the horror at what she had ingested just a wee bit was the thought that she might not need another tetnus shot for five or six years.

I will spare you the details of the vomiting that took place later that night, but it was not the only regurgitation going on at Chez Veasey. While we were away, the cats had decided to express their displeasure in being left alone for the holidays by practicing some tag team vomiting. They targeted our bed, paying special attention to our pillows. Because nothing says "Welcome Home, Boy-I'll bet you're tired!" like a mattress and bedding covered in cat puke.

I dreamed of tuna fish sandwiches when I finally went to sleep--coincidence?

MeRRy MeRRy HaPPY

So sorry I have not blogged this week: I have been single handedly trying to save this economy by making purchase after purchase. I think the market went up two points thanks to what I spent on stocking stuffers. You're welcome, Mr. Obama. My job here is done.

Complicated Boy left this note for our House Elf to take to Santa last night:

Dear Santa,
I hope I was not so greety and please don't give me only 1 presint.

Evin thow I was cinda bad and I powdid afyou times I am fathful to selabrat this holladay.

You and Jesis make cathlik pepole happy. The ones that beleve in you are real.
marry christmas.

Which led to some interesting discussions-starting with: we are not Catholic.

Complicated Boy was up late last night, worried he was on Santa's "Naughty" list. And while I secretly believe that he might be in the top 500, I told him he was on Santa's little known list: The Basically Nice but Sometimes Naughty List For People Who Try Hard To Do The Right Thing.

I hope all of you have the most wonderful & joyous Holiday.

A CHRiSTMaS SuRVeY

My friend Scrappin Jenny posted a longer version of this survey on her website. Feel free to play along on your own blog or in the comments section.

WRAPPING PAPER OR GIFT BAGS?
Sometimes both. Sometimes a lucky recipient gets a present wrapped in Christmas paper shoved into a Birthday gift bag. We like to call it reducing our carbon footprint. Our friends like to call it cheap and lazy.

REAL TREE OR ARTIFICIAL? ANGEL OR STAR ON TOP?
We don't hate on the artificial, but us city folk do not have these things you people call attics or basements, so we have to go with the real. Up until last year, we topped our tree with a paper cutout of The Wiggles in their Big Red Car. It's quite possible the Jonas Brothers may be placed there before the holiday has passed. Because how can you dream about a White Chrismas without picturing Joe in those skinny jeans in Camp Rock? Not that...ermmm..I ever think about that, Chris Hanson...next question, please.

EGGNOG-YES OR NO?
Let's see: Artery clogging? Check. Full of Junky Calories, sure to make your thighs bigger? Check. Involves alcohol? Check. Tastes like cookie batter? Check. Guess that would be a yes. Do I also need to tell you people that The Pope is Catholic?

HARDEST PERSON TO BUY FOR?
This will be the fifth year in a row we get Dee-Dad a sweater vest. Need I say more?

DO YOU HAVE A NATIVITY SCENE?
I have several: an old fashioned one from my mother, a beautiful ceramic one from my MIL, a plastic Playschool one, a Playmobile one that half the pieces have gone missing from (Joseph is now a knight, Mary is a zoo keeper) , and a new Nativity that I just made for OUR NAME IS MUD (shameless plug ahead) called "Bobble to Bethlehem" which is a bobble head nativity that will be available for purchase in your local stores next year. Unless stores find it offensive and do not order it-which I guess is a possibility. This was the fate met by my Salt and Pepper Nativity set (Jesus is The Reason for the Seasoning), which like a Jessica Simpson movie, was never released.

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOVIE?
The one in the dvd player, babysitting The Spawn.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR CHRISTMAS?
World Peace, Economic Recovery, and Universal Compassion and Tolerance. But if that's too much; well, a girl really can never have too many Christmas sweaters.

MR. PiNK,BLaSTeR OLLie, aNTS & TRoPHieS

I'd like to take a moment to vent about my recent Holiday Guests.

First: Mr. Pink. Mr. Pink is a powder pink stuffed kitten that Banana has had since she was born. (Because Cat People are like that. We convert them at birth.)



Mr. Pink has been living the past year quite happily in the shoe bags I have nailed to the wall to hold Banana's menagerie-and by menagerie, I mean piles and piles of stuffed animals--each with its own name and catalogued in that steal trap of a five year old brain she has. This means that if I try to sneak the straw-stuffed lobster she won at a carnival last summer into the Goodwill bag, she will all of a sudden start screaming: WHERE OH WHERE IS LARRY LOBSTER MY GAWD MAMA MY LOBSTER HAS GONE MISSING as if the thing was a child she'd lost on a mall excursion.

I don't know what brought about Mr. Pink's sudden popularity, but as of the past two days he has been everywhere. If you're making brownies, Mr. Pink has to stir the batter. If you're taking a bath, Mr. Pink insists on bubbles. This morning Mr. Pink decided to be the voice of Banana as in : "Mr. Pink says Banana would like Leggomyeggos this morning for breakfast" and "Mr. Pink says Banana would prefer to wear the pink tshirt as this green one is scratchy." I would be fine with this-except it reminds me of a Tales From the Crypt episode and I keep thinking any minute I'll be chased into the bathroom where a paw weilding a steak knife will slash at my bare feet under the door...but maybe that's just me. And I am sure I am imagining his little eyes following me around the room.

And speaking of eyes....



Our second guest, Blaster Ollie, is our house elf. Banana had christened him "Ollie" but ComplicatedBoy insisted on adding the "Blaster," which makes him sound like a midget ex-pornstar. Every night he flies back to the North pole to report on the behaviors of The Spawn, and each morning he's found hiding in a new place. Except the nights Mommy and Daddy have cocktails--then he tends to stay right where he is. Lately, he's been exceptionally lazy.



This is our third guest--or guests. We got this ant farm from the Discovery Store-and it is awesome-I totally recommend it to anyone with kids for a Holiday present. We were skeptical; having had to flush the last batch of Grow -Your- Own -Animals down the toilet when the tadpoles refused to turn into frogs and even after six months remained mutant slimy green things that smelled. But the ants are great and very industrious. Only down side I see is that watching them work and communicate with each other will put you off things like frying them under a magnifying glass or crushing them underfoot: it's obvious they are intelligent, sensitive creatures and as long as they are not in my sugar bowl, I say Live and let Live. I guess I am lucky they haven't come out with Casa Cockroach.

And finally: you all wrote wonderful, heart wrenching, gut churning, and side splitting posts on your worst gifts.




There were so many good posts that I CAN'T DECIDE! So Mr. Pink will say it for me: EVERYONE WINS. Literally. If you posted, email me your address at L V Mud at aol dot com and everyone who played gets a little sumpin sumpin. Cuz you are all wonderful people and I heart you, and it's the least I can do if you were given a burlap sack, an Applebees tray or two weeks without pay--I'm just sayin.

No GReaTer GiFT THaN THe PReSeNT

When I taught Kindergarten at a very Snooty Patooty Upper East Side Private school, the line was often crossed between "Thoughtful Holiday Gift" and "Bribe to Get My Child into a Competitive Ongoing School." The year before I arrived, a sampling of gifts other teachers received included: a trip to Paris on the President of a Major Network's private jet, a pair of two carat diamond earrings, and a fur coat. I would tell you more, but there is that Private Nursery School Teacher Code of Honor, and I might end up in the East River in a pair of cement Keds, after having been forced to eat paste.

The year I started as a teacher, our HoityToity school got a new Headmistress, and one of her first acts of business was to Ban All Christmas Gifts. Except Handmade ones.

That year, many a seasoned veteran was slipped a Tiffany's box, or found an Amex gift card tucked into a child's drawing. But I was The New Kid on The Block, and the parents in my class were also new (Except for the Saudian Arabian Prince who had a sibling in an upper grade), and as a result were very enthusiastic about Getting With The Program.

I received tin after tin of homemade cookies-obviously slaved over by my student with maybe just a little help from the Private Chef, jars of pickled and preserved gourmet fruits and jellies and several fabulous drawings in which the children had portrayed me as 20-25 lbs. thinner than I was in real life. I loved all of these things.

One of my very favorite students (who went on to recently date Paris Hilton, btw) appeared before me at our Christmas Party bearing a present, which obviously did not hold cookies or muffins or some culinary treat containing truffles.

It was a large orb, shining the way only something wrapped in Reynolds Wrap can, about the size of a basketball. I could not wait for the last child to leave and the miniature tables to be wiped down, miniature chairs pushed in, so I could unwrap it.

I peeled away the first layer of tin foil to reveal.....another layer of tin foil.
I peeled away the second layer of tin foil to reveal.....another layer of tin foil.

Aha- I thought- my very clever student has created a "surprise ball" for me; which is a very clever way of concealing a present at the center of a sphere.

And so I spent the next half hour, peeling layer after layer of tin foil away from the core--to finally reveal..........

Nothing.

The tin foil ball WAS the present.

It took me another three quarters of an hour to reassemble the creation, and when the students came back from vacation and asked me if I had enjoyed their pomegranate preserves and white truffle chocolate chip cookies, I said Yes! I had enjoyed them all, while I admired the silver ball on my tree.


The deadline for writing your own post about gifts has been extended through today-please post in the comments section of the post below if you want to play for the trophy.

BLoG ToPiC WiNNeR

Good morning chickens. It's 9:08 and Monday has officially already kicked our butt. Let me just quickly post what the winning Blog Topic is before we run Banana to the doctors with what looks like strep and figure out how we're gonna drag CBoy into school an hour late with a minimum of kicking and screaming.

The winner of the HOLIDAY SURVIVAL GOBLET is....... KAS! Email me with your address at l v mud at a o l dot c o m. Yay for you!

That means that the blog topic for today is: absolute worst gifts you have ever been given or gave to someone else. Please post your blog url in the comments section below so I know to visit and read your entry about this topic. You have until 10:00 pm est tonight to write your post. Best post gets that trophy!!

Best of Luck to all!

A CHaLLeNGe (ok, a giveaway)

Shhhhhhhhhhh......don't tell anonymous: it's another one of those pesky Friday Giveaways. And can I just say you guys are Totally Awesome for sticking so far up for me, and next time the dry cleaner loses one of our shirts we are SO CALLING YOU.

Here's how we're gonna mix up today's Giveaway:
You enter the giveaway by suggesting a BLOG TOPIC of your choice in the comments section below.
Hooray: you can enter as many times as you wish--but one topic per entry.
Winner chosen at random on Monday morning at 9 am at which point I will post the winning blog topic.
Blog about the chosen topic, and best blog wins an honest to goodness Bad Ass Blog Trophy.

For those of you half in the box, Let's review shall we?

To win this lovely handpainted goblet from www.ournameismud.com leave a blog topic suggestion in the comments field below.

Eneter as many times as you wish-different blog topic suggestion each time.

At 9:00 on Monday EST, I will announce the winner and THE TOPIC OF THE DAY. You'll leave a comment if you choose to blog about it. Best blog post (in my humblest of opinions) will win this fabulous trophy:

Except, of course, it will be inscribed with your blog url and your name. You'll have ALL DAY MONDAY to be brilliant, cuz i won't pick a winner until next Tuesday morning.

And there you have it; something to look forward to at the end of this wonderful weekend. Who needs MoJo when you have stuff?

WHaT'S oN YouR RaCK? In Defense of Christmas Sweaters

Those of you who are fans of www.missthystle.com know that one of her very favorite things to blog about is her baby feeders, her boulders, her cantaloupes...Her Rack. Amongst other Questionable Images, Thystle has posted pictures of her rib bumpers straining to be freed from a $5 translucent Old Navy Tshirt, shown a close up of her devil's dumplings splattered with hot sauce from sloppy taco eating, and shared her jahoobies crammed into a violet lace bra. Not to be outdone by Miss Thystle, and in the interest of keeping all three of my male readers: I felt it was time to share a shot of my Berthas:



Why, Yes Virginia...THAT IS A CHRISTMAS SWEATER I AM WEARING. With Snowmen.

It is time for me to shatter the myths and rail against the prejudice surrounding these fine garments. It's time we stop making these knitted testaments to the Holiday Spirit the brunt of bad jokes and the focus of satirical office parties. It's time we tell Stacy and Clinton they are full of Reindeer Poop.

If you are still hiding in the closet along with a knitted garment that features Nutcrackers or Xmas Trees, I say: Come Out. There is no shame in your knitware adorned with beads, glitter, sequins or bells. No longer should you have to fear the taunts of insensitive people who say you look like a dorky 2nd grade substitute teacher.

We all know that wardrobe effects attitude. Just ask the people who work at Dressed For Success, who would not return my phone calls regarding this matter.

Decking the chesticles with a little cheer is all about The Awesome Spirit of Christmas. Slip into a little number with silver snowflakes and before you know it, you are spreading Good Tidings and Peace and Joy and making christmas cookies, and loving your neighbor. So I say unto my fellow man: don't hate on the Christmas Sweater. I have a Dream that One Day, wearing a Christmas Sweater will be considered a hip, ironic thing to do for people of all ages, races, and economic backgrounds. I say World Peace is just a Pointsetta Sweater Vest away.


Giveaway coming tonight-stay tuned

5 Reasons I LoST My BLoG MoJo

So-in case you missed it on the post below, this comment was left for me by my very dear friend, Anonymous:

I miss the good old days when there were things to read on this blog. Not just one contest after another. :(

And you know what really gets me? THE FROWNY FACE. I'd rather a pile of passionate hate mail than that Powerful Indicator of Total Sadness. It means Anonymous is no longer Feeling The <3 (that's a heart, you know, for L O V E).

As always, Anonymous is correct. I can't say I have been doing my best blogging as of late--so I will do what I usually do when confronted with a hard truth such as this: PLACE BLAME ELSEWHERE. Here now, dear readers, are the top 5 reasons why my blog has lost its Mojo of late.

1. MY CHILDREN REFUSE TO DO ANYTHING INTERESTING.
Lately, everything they have had to say has been totally high-larious, but I recently discovered it is because they have been memorizing Hannah Montanna scripts verbatim. (Which may also explain why the other day in the middle of a meeting with a very important client, I personally exclaimed: "Sweet Nibblets." )

2. WORK IS...
Well, actually I can't really blog about work. But I can tell you that sitting down to design something like a magnet program can take DAYS and DAYS and ALL my brain power has to go to avoiding using sayings like "Put your big girl panties on and deal with it" or "PMS is the only time I get to be myself." I hope this gives you new appreciation for the keychains sold at your local gift store next time you visit--someone else's blog suffered so that you could enjoy saying like "I chose the road less traveled and now I don't know where the hell I am."

3. PEPPERMINT BARK
Seriously. Oprah is not the only one who is guilty of back sliding into weight gain. And while they deflated on the jenny Craig diet , my boobs have now begun to swell like a Macys Day Parade balloon and they are ALWAYS IN THE WAY. Especially the right one. And that's all I have to say about that, except if you see me--please--don't ask for a hug. There is no place to put these things.

4. I AM WRITING A BOOK.
Not doing that too well write now either (intentional puns should be worth something, no?) Our book will include s-e-x, which means that I have to think back and try to remember exactly who gets tied up. My point being, again, super brain powers diverted elsewhere.

5. SOBRIETY
I have been trying to lay off the sauce and as a result the literary wheels have become a bit squeaky: let's just say they turn best when lubricated with a good Pinot Grigio. ( Anonymous would probably show up to my intervention with a nice boxed Chard. She's like that.) So anyhooo, stone cold sober blog topics that have come to mind but I have not posted include "In Defense of Christmas Sweaters" and "Elf on the Shelf: Great New Tradition or Major Pain in the Ass". So you can see how when given the choice, I might go for the giveaway.

But I promise, dear readers, to try to do better going forward.......

WeiNeRS....I MeaN WiNNeRS

Hot diggity dog- I get to announce the winner's of Friday's contest.

The winner of the "Don't Bust My Balls" Holiday votive inspired by the luscious Miss Thystle is......
"Hi, I'm Amy!"

The winner of the "O What Fun" Holiday votive inspired by the loquacious BJ at Don'toverthinkit is.....
"Evil Twin's Wife"

The winner of the "Reindeer Poop" ornament inspired by the very proper Racie Lover at waitwaittheresmore is.......
"Spatula"

Winners please email me at L V mud at a o l dot com with your addresses! Thanks for playing everybody!

ANOTHER GIVEAWAY o when will it end?!?

Isn't this a beautiful painting? You can win it if you pop on over to www.lifespatula.blogspot.com and let her know what you would paint or draw if someone hadn't crushed and destroyed your natural and innate creativity and God-given artistic talent by telling you that trees can't be purple and that you shouldn't use the black crayon so much.

Not that I'm bitter.

Her giveaway ends December 15th, and I'll be giving a super special secret surprise to one of the people who enters it: so you have two chances to win two fabulous prizes: and since Spatula usually only gets 1-3 comments I just want to assure you THE ODDS ARE IN YOUR FAVOR BABY. Go. Go Now.

MEGA MUD Christmas Giveaway

This month, I'd like to share some of my many Bloggy Blessings with others. This week we have multiple giveaways...and multiple chances to win! But here's the catch: you'll be playing elsewhere! That's right; in order to win, you'll be posting comments on several other blogs. I'll be featuring many different blogs throughout the month...who knows if yours will be next?

First up, is www.missthystle.com She is offering two prizes on her current post, which is titled LIKE SCHNITZEL WITH NOODLES ONLY BETTER, and if you leave a comment on that post you will ALSO get a chance to win this hand painted Christmas votive candleholder inspired by her trademark snark & sass:


Next is www.don't overthinkit.blogspot.com Post a comment on BJs current post, entitled LOOKING FOR A NEW HOBBY? I CAN HOOK YOU UP and you will be automatically entered to win this fabulous hand painted votive inspired by this verbose ( I mean that in the nicest way) Texan.


Then let your fingers do the walking over to Racie Lover's blog www.waitwaitthersmore.blogspot.com and leave a comment on her current post WE GO TO THE MATTRESSES for a chance to win this hand painted ornament, inspired by Racie's very reserved and proper approach to all things scatological


I am currently working on a book with these very talented gals (plus the fabulous but blogless Sheila) , and I think if you read through some of their posts you will be as impressed with their wit and talent as I was when I first sent them the email that began "I have this crazy idea...." Look for our book to be published.......well.........ok, right now i haven't finished my chapter two, but trust me on this--it's gonna be great.

So go visit, leave a comment, winners will be chosen at random on Monday at some point.

SiLVeR BeLL

It's the MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR! Scratch that... I meant to say: IT'S THE HAP- HAPPIEST SEASON OF ALL! You know-much mistletoeing and hearts are a-glowing and we're of good cheer.......

I Love Everything about Christmas!! (except the song "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" which for some reason just really annoys me. Especially the John Mellencamp version. Who ever thought a violin could sound exactly like a three year old whining?)

For those of you who have never experienced Christmas in the Big Apple, I thought I would write a few posts about what the Season is like in New Yawk. All of these posts will be titled Silver Bells, so feel free to skip them if you are a Hater of Whoville. However: there will be no Figgy Pudding for you...I'm just sayin....


We kicked off the season with a trip to Radio City Music Hall to see The Rockettes in the CHRISTMAS SPECTACULAR. This show is...what's the word I'm looking for....oh yeah: SPECTACULAR. Lots of leg kicks, and Santa, and a 5 minute version of the Nutcracker danced by teddy bears, and real ice skaters and a double decker bus and...


LIVE ANIMALS in the nativity scene. AND OH--and little people dressed as elves. And sparkly costumes. And "Joy To The World" sung as a jazzed up Gospel tune by a quartet dressed as bellmen. And Fake snow falling from the ceiling! DOES IT GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS? I think not! One could get her tinsel in such a tangle that she just about pees her pants...which is quite possible given the 25 minute wait to use the Ladies Restroom.

Everyone had a great time with just a few complaints: Sexyhusbandomine said the woman behind him was eating a hotdog and drinking white wine throughout the performance. so every scene was accompanied by the aroma of sausage and chardonnay. I told him he should have used his imagination and pretended it was chestnuts roasting on an open fire. He did his usual eye roll thing which I'm pretty sure is going to equal One Big Bag of Coal, mister.

Tonight we are buying our CHRISTMAS TREE!! We will not be bundeling up in our car and driving out to a farm to cut one down. We will be going where most New Yorkers go to get their tree..... outside our local drugstore, where some nice people from Canada have a tree stand.

An eight foot Douglas Fir will run you $150, an eight foot Frazier Fir will run you $160. We may need to go with this

What's a Christmas tree run in your neck of the woods?

THe YiNG aND THe YaNG

When I was young, a trip to the dentist meant spending some quality time with a magazine called HIGHLIGHTS. My least favorite regular feature (beside the Hidden Pictures which some kid would have always finished in crayon before me) was a cartoon called GOOFUS AND GALLANT, which contrasted the behavior of two young boys. In each installment, Goofus and Gallant would respond very differently to the same situation. Goofus always chose an irresponsible path, while Gallant always did the Right Thing.

I was always rooting for Goofus to get his act together. I didn't think it was fair that he had to go through life with a name like that, and to be frank-he always seemed like he would be the "fun" one to hang out with, especially if you wanted to go play with matches or shoot a bb gun at the neighbor's house. But what bothered me most was that the relationship between the two boys was never clearly defined. I lay awake at night wondering: Were They Cousins? Twins Seperated at Birth? Some Sort of Clones Like on Star Trek Episode 45?

Flash forward lo these many years and the little matter of NATURE VS. NURTURE continues to occupy my remaining brain cells.

Take, for example, this ACTUAL REAL LIVE AND TRUE conversation we had at Chez Veasey this morning:

BANANA: But I want to go to school! I REALLY WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!
ME: But honey you have a fever of 102 and you just threw up. Let's put the tv on.
BANANA: But I feel better now! I can't miss school! Waaaaaah!
CBOY: Um, Mom? Take a look at this injury. I think we should probably BOTH stay home today.
ME: That's called a hangnail, and you are going to school.
BANANA: Please mommy please mommy don't make me stay home and watch tv! There's a canned food drive today and I need to help the poor people with no food!
CBOY: You don't love me.

And then there is the little matter of the "WHAT ARE YOU GRATEFUL FOR?" school assignments from last week. The Banana wrote: I AM GRATEFUL FOR
* My Mommy and Daddy
* My Brother
* My cats
* Dressups
* Rainbows

Here is CBoy's list of things he is GRATEFUL FOR:



Allow me to translate:
* My annoying sister
* Food
* Me
*Today
*My dead Grandma and Grandpa (who by the way is still alive) and fish and cat
* My esophogus
* My small intestine
* My skull
* My heart
* My brain
* George Washington
* Abraham Lincoln
* Teddy Roosevelt

Hmmm. I can't wait to see what Mother's Day brings this year.