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banjo ben ditched work yesterday afternoon so we went spent the afternoon shopping local record stores. between the two of us we ended up buying nearly 100 records, which would be much cooler if either one of us actually owned a record player.

the first record i ever owned was strawberry shortcake. i’d like to think my tastes have changed since then, but sadly no. my favorite record purchased today wasn’t billie holiday, paul anka (shut up!) or any of the sinatra albums i found. nooooo, it was a random waltz album. it’s cute and pink just like my strawberry shortcake album–some things never change. now if i could just find something to listen to them on!

a friend invited me to travel with her to italy this summer. i gladly accepted. we’ll be staying with her family, therefore all i need is a plane ticket and someone to watch daisy.

i’ve never kenneled her more than three days at a time. the thought of her in dog prison for two weeks kills me… and my wallet. previously the only person i’ve trusted her with is the one i’ll be traveling with. this leaves ben–the kid who lost his basketball in the back seat of his own car! what hope does daisy have?

before trusting her with ben i should put him through rigorous testing. i considered assigning him a bag of sugar like in high school, but i can see him sticking it in the pantry and pulling it out only when i came over, or eating it all. what will that prove? that he’s addicted to sugar?(by the way, why the hell were they teaching us in high school how to care for an infant, but not how to balance a checkbook? life skills my ass.)

perhaps i can bribe him with presents. if he keeps daisy alive i’ll bring him back italian leather shoes, the ones he has are looking kinda dingy. or, i’ll get him a prostitute for his birthday. if that doesn’t guarantee daisy’s safety nothing will.

as banjo ben and i were leaving the pub tonight, he stopped whatever he was yammering on about mid-sentence. i looked over and his mouth was agape as he was stared at a wedding dress in a shop window. he’s considering going drag queen, or on the prowl for a wife. either way, apparently it’s all my fault. i wish he’d just own up to his inner woman already.

i forgot to mention something very important about ben’s workplace. in the employee bathroom you can get a drink from the machine while you’re on the toilet. it’s a boy’s paradise!

since ben’s suffered enough blog humiliation i made one of his cashier’s demonstrate, and because i already get enough weird email i insisted he keep his pants on. you’re welcome.

when i tell people ben is weird they just laugh, but little do they know he really, really is! my other brother matt turned 30 last week, forcing us to drive to utah county.

hannah had a leftover birthday decoration still up: a life size cardboard princess cut out. i just had to snap this picture: not sure if he was pretending to eat the princess (which we know he does) or get under her dress. either way… WEIRD!

sorry guys, i had no idea my mood affected storm patterns. i must be magic! it took me nearly an hour just to get to the freeway this morning. here’s the intersection i was stuck at:which only ben will find ironic. last spring he asked me every single day to go to the banjo store with him. i refused every single day. the kid is already weird, buying a banjo was not going to help his image. of course, he’s a brat and didn’t listen–as you can see here.

For the past 23 years I’ve been convinced my mother lies about where Ben came from. Yes, I know all about the birds and bees. Boy do I know! Not that. I thought Ben had to be adopted or left on our doorstop by gypsies. Because we all know gypsies pass through Delta a lot. He looks nothing like me, or so I thought.

This picture proves me wrong, and my mother right. I really, really hate that!Excuse Ben’s need for tweezers, our exhausted eyes, and the zit I call Pluto on my chin. It was a long day.