working my witchcraft. it make sense. just read.

If you and I were to ever meet in real life (because I'd call it 'real life' and not 'RL' due to my personal creed to use Internet abbreviations and emoticons sparingly), I imagine a couple things would cross your mind. First, you'd probably be stunned by how truly kick ass I am. Seriously. I'm not bragging, but I feel I should tell you that some people I know in real life have referred to me as, and I quote, "cool." Oh, sure, when we first met, I'd probably come across as ragingly shy and I'd be very quiet, but right about the time you were starting to think I must be some kind of bitch or something, I'd totally start talking and then never shut up and, "Whoa! Hold up! Is that my phone? Because I think my mom may be trying get ahold of me and I should probably get that!" you'd be saying, in some feeble attempt to get away from me, but, whoops, sorry! By then I'd be totally into you and follow you around like a puppy.

So that's the first thing you'd notice. The second thing you'd notice is how I tend to go off on tangents out of nowhere, and you'd have to tap me on the shoulder to get my attention from all the talking I'd be doing and ask, "So. This tangent thing? Does that count as the second thing in the whole couple of things about you I'd notice?" and I'd have to respond, "No. Crap. Seriously, what were we talking about anyway?" Then it would hit me. The second thing, which is now actually the third thing, that you'd notice about me if we were to meet in real life is that I'm absolutely NOT a crafty person. I don't enjoy crafts. In fact, I like only two thinks that contain the word craft or a derivative of such:

• Kraft Macaroni and Cheese
• Kraftwerk

I'd also probably be inclined to include Craftsmen tools to that list, too, but that's not the Major Tool Company for whom my Tool Man works, and if he were to find out, he'd totally put the screws to me.
Which, of course, wouldn't be that bad...

See!? I just caught myself before I went off on a super sexy tangent!

(p.s. I can only take so much Kraftwerk, btw)

(p.p. s. You'll note that 'btw' is really one of the few Internet abbreviations I have a love affair with)

So, back to the crafts. People, in my cache of craft items, I've had the same four bottles of paint and three different colors of glitter for FOUR YEARS! Additionally, there are hundreds of wooden popsicle sticks, pipe cleaners, and googly eyes which, I've little doubt, come alive at night and weep (especially those googly eyes!) because they're so rarely used. My kids just aren't crafty kids. Well, I take that back. They sort of are, but because I'm not, they tend to do that kind of thing with their Grandma M., and that explains why, in my bedroom, I have a red sand pail that's filled with cat litter, a Styrofoam paper plate colored the shade of dirt atop the cat litter, and plastic yard ornaments shaped like tulips sticking out from that. Oh, and with a foam art penguin face dressed in a stocking cap and scarf decorating the side of the pail, because this is nothing if not a multi-seasonal craft item.

(btw - what's the statute of limitations on keeping craft projects? Because seriously, that penguin face is creeping me the hell out.)

So, when and if we meet in real life, I quite imagine the first (or third) thing you'll say is, "Wow. You really aren't crafty, are you?" I suggest you say that quickly in the brief time where I'm quiet and just before the tangents start, because as soon as you say it, I'm going to remind you of this post! Because keep reading!

Last night, my youngest son and I were the only people home. Having exhausted all of the books he was interested in reading and thwarting his goal of watching Zack and Cody (thank you, hot glue gun!), I suggested we make a craft! My son's head nearly exploded at the idea! "But you're not a crafty mom, Mama!" he cried. "I know! But I'd do anything for you!" I cried back. "And besides, I have these bags of candy corn and mallowcreme pumpkins that, if we don't do something with them, I'll just sit around and eat and then when and if I ever meet any of these glorious Internet people, the first thing they're going to notice about me is what a fat ass I have!"

We decided to make haunted gingerbread houses. I know! My kid nearly hyperventilated as we tore up the kitchen in search of all our supplies. Alas, no gingerbread, so we resorted to graham crackers. Cut to several hours later. Want to see what we made?

Pretty flippin' awesome, aren't they! And get this - that's all free form, my friends! Check out that awesome attention to detail. Ghosts and giant spiders and bugs?! Awesome! You'll notice that a portion of my roof fell off. That's just ambiance, my friends. Also, I modeled my haunted graham cracker house after my neighbors, the Frat Boys Who May Or May Not Be Cooking Meth Next Door, whose house is driving down the property values of on my cul-de-sac faster than the tanking economy. However, now I must resist the urge to eat the candy corn shingles that are resting sadly upon the construction paper grass.

My kid is, to say the least, pretty thrilled with the work we did. I'll admit that I kind of got into it, too. Today, however? My living room smells like the inside of Wonka's factory. The blend of frosting and sugary candy has created a sweet, sweet cocktail that is burning my nose. Sadly, though I wish it would, I'm sure this won't curb my hot, hot love for frosting.

Don't look for me to get all wacky and start making hand-print turkeys and cornucopias out of rolled up newspapers for Thanksgiving, though. At best, I'm a tri-annual crafter. I'm also in a little bit of mourning because, OMG, I freakin' love Brachs pumpkin mellowcremes, and I didn't want to be sad seeing them glued to construction paper, but it kind of happened. However, yeah! We can still totally skip over that part of the conversation when the topic of my ass comes up!

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So, my kid and I? We listened to this last night while doing our craft project. What? Oh, ha ha! Very funny! Unlike the time I bought the Jonas Brothers' cds for me and me alone, I did actually buy this for my 6-year-old, with whom I'll also probably be going on a date with to see the movie this weekend. The good thing is it's a pretty quick cd. The other thing? I think I'm already kind of addicted to this song:

Damn you, Zac Efron and your mesmerizing eyes. Damn you straight to my heart, where the three of us - you, me, and Joe Jonas - can live together forever in my super sweet smelling, candy-coated graham cracker house.