Troublemaker 7-1-11

I can already tell. Boop is a troublemaker ;) Ah the trouble this one gets me into! Yesterday, it was an ad for a 3 Musketeers candy bar. I really don't have much of a taste for sweets, strangely enough, and I can't figure out why I was drawn to the ad for the 3 Musketeers. 'But, Boop, don't you realize that I'm lactose intolerant??' And then there was the ad for Reese's peanut butter cups. 'Boop, why do you pay so much attention to these chocolate ads?' I'm not joking when I say that I haven't had a taste for sweet. Lactose free ice cream is sitting in the freezer. I was eating it with my breakfast cereal when I ran out of milk, but I really haven't had much interest in it. It's usually gone in 2 days, but I've had it over 2 weeks.

And this morning Burger King was advertising for $1.04 chicken sandwiches, but it doesn't start until tomorrow, of course. That didn't keep Boop from radaring in on it. 'Tomorrow, Boop, we'll have all the chicken sandwiches you want. The special is all weekend.' I thought I would satisfy Boop with a schwarma from the Middle Eastern restaurant across the street, but I guess it's already closed down for good. (To be honest, the baklava I tried from there was really stale; so I wasn't expecting much from the schwarma.)

On the way down the street, Boop was really wanting a Subway sandwich. No Boop. Our immune system isn't strong enough. There's a risk of listeria. That would be a blow out! So, I caved in to Boop's original idea, doting momma that I am, and got Boop a chicken sandwich from Wendy's. <So what is it with everyone calling me "Honey" all of the sudden? The woman at Wendy's called me Honey, and it seems like a lot of other people have been lately, too. I don't look pregnant. Maybe I just look like I'm starving to death, ahem Boop.> So the sandwich calmed Boop down, but in all honesty, Boop could've eaten another one... Rotten. It would've just made me sick. Boop is always pressing my luck when it comes to food. That poor little Zofran is working over time. Might I remind you, little Boop, about the hyperemesis gravidarum?

I think it's the Paw-Paw in Boop coming out. T*R*O*U*B*L*E. I recognize it when I see it. Always trying to get me into trouble. Those of you who knew my Paw-Paw know what I mean. Right now, Boop could sit and eat a sack of White Castles, which would make me terrifically sick. No black bananas, Boop. That's where I draw the line. So far, Boop hasn't shown any inclination for overly ripe bananas, thank heavens, but I shouldn't mention it as it will bring it to pass. You know Paw-Paw would joyfully take credit for such rotten meanness and then would try to figure out how to get Boop to torment me more!