This is why Easter makes my mom crazy

So my mother likes Peeps. And when I say "likes" I mean "yearns for". Anyway, being the charming daughter I am, I got her two boxes of Peeps, one of which was INVADED by ants who now live in my kitchen, searching for more Peeps. Thank, Mom. Anyway, a week after I give her the untouched box, I receive this series of text messages: 

6:27 pm April 14, 2009: 

Mom: Get more peeps. 

Me: I think you've had enough peeps.

Mom: And?

*15 minutes later*

Mom: Peeeeps. 

*5 minutes later*

Mom: Peeeps. 

Me: No more peeps now. Going to yoga. 

Mom: Nooo. Once a year. 

Me: Yoga now. 

Was that the end of it? Oh hells no. This woman is on a freaking mission. 

3:45 pm the following day:

Mom: Nutz wants peeps. 

Me: You're obsessed.

Mom: Peeps season is short.

Me: They have them all the freaking time.

Mom: R u sure?

Me: Omg yes.

Mom: Life is good. 

5:54 pm April 22, 2009:

Mom: Peeps.

Mom, I didn't teach you how to text so you could badger me about fake marshmallow that explodes in the microwave. Also, does anyone else find that link distressing from a psychosis standpoint?

OhmyGodthiswillbethebest2hoursofmylife

Unghhhhhhhhhhh:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OX6H7t1wXZI

The joy of parenthood

So everyone once in awhile I foster kittens for two reasons: 

1. It keeps Serafina on her toes. That tubby cat gets really full of herself if left to her own devices. Observe:

Serafina is the fat gray one in the back and Dante is the fat brown one in the foreground. As you can see, they lead terribly taxing lives. I think this was taken around 1 pmish.

and 2. HelLO! Kittens!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee KITTENS!!!!!!1111 They come from the SPCA and usually are just too tiny to get spayed or neutered, so I fatten them up for a month or so to help the SPCA with space and then give them back to be adopted by families who hopefully aren't as psychotic as I am. Or are they? 

Anyway, my latest batch has been sort of... stand offish. Not that it's particularly a good idea for them to love me FOREVER like they SHOULD. Pre complete fattitude: 

That's Jada, Nile, and Nathan. Not my names but I probably couldn't do better. You also get a bonus of a pic of my puppily Nutmeg in the background. Precious! She's a runner. Seriously, they should have named her Houdini. 

So my friend Em was visiting this past weekend (Best. Weekend. EVER.) and, as luck would have it, I came down with some sort of debilitating virus on Sunday. Sweet little Emily spent about 12 hours watching movies while I drifted in and out of consciousness on the couch a mere three feet away from her (tragically, I remember most of Sydney White). That's a ballsy woman. When I hugged her goodbye on Monday, my mom said, "Wow you touched Typhoid Mary." Thanks, Mom. 

Anywhom, through the haze I could hear this running commentary on the kittens' "goings-on" from Em. I didn't really know what she was talking about until I woke up later on Monday to see this:

Incidentally, all three are covered in glitter.