Unrelated S&J (two-for-one special)

"S"
Why in the world are people still reporting media stories using language like, "We may be in a recession"?

With unemployment rising another .5%, the dollar dropping in value all around the world, gas and energy prices rising, foreclosures continuing to effect individuals and families at multiple socioeconomic levels, multiple companies shutting down factories or closing down offices leading to hundreds of thousands of layoffs, and people looking for work and finding none in nearly every industry imaginable: WE ARE IN A RECESSION PEOPLE.

Instead of blithely pretending it isn't so, or trying to persuade the American public to forgo panic and remain hopeful that such an ecomonic categorization is as-of-yet unconfirmed, why not just be upfront about it and start looking at ways we can make things better for the millions of Americans who are truly struggling?

Intentional ignorance is helping no one, and pretending as if it might actually be debatable or some kind of collective cultural myth is ultimately pretty insulting.

Forgive the soapbox, but consider it a kind of angry sorrow.

"J"
We bought a Snoopy Sno Cone Maker from our local toy store for Ariana in a fit of nostalgic glee, believing her love of ice and the inclusion of a sweet, syrupy topping would make it an indisputable hit with our ice-chip-loving daughter.

Hoping to spring it on her at just the right moment, we had hidden it away in the closet of Andy's office. Tonight seemed perfect: Ari was hyped up on Benedryl for a weird rash on her legs, has not been getting enough sleep, and was generally feeling grumpy and unpleasable.

So... Andy opened it up, cleaned every part, set it all up, and prepped her for what to expect... ice! With grape flavor! Yummy!

I had not remembered that the special syrup for the sno cone maker is actually a kool-aid knockoff. You make 2 quarts of it, put it in the little snowman squirty guy, and voila: flavored sno cone.

Here's the nice part: Ari hated it. She didn't like the grape stuff and kept saying, "pleh" - which essentially means it tastes yucky and she wants no more. We don't give her sugary drinks, she's never had caffeine of any kind, and we try to stay away from anything too chemical-y where she's concerned.

So... our little girl tasted this stuff, from which she has been shielded thus far (stuff Andy and I both grew up on and drank like some sort of kiddie ambrosia), and she detested it. Pleh, Daddy. Pleh, Mommy.

Which made me feel very happy.