A cheeky little post, but mostly pointless

Hmm.

1) I found my camera! YAY! I have even taken some fab pics of (parts of) myself for the next few Tuesdays (plus other cool stuff ... erm, cute babies ... it's mostly cute babies.)

("Put the Photoshop disk down, Mrs EGH! Back away from the computer!")

2) My temp has plunged but AF has not arrived and you and I and all the random molecules in the universe know that this means bugger all. I will most likely get up from this post, go to the loo, ect, etc (edited for our more delicate male readers. I'm just considerate that way. You hard-core ladies, well, as Quint said: "ya folla?!")

[edited to add: I kid you not ... no, really ... I just got up, and ... yep, you guessed it. So. That's the end of this cycle. Keep me in your thoughts for the next one. I'm only giving myself four more tries.]

3) I want to assure everyone that, as soon as I get up off my lazy arse and DO it, I will be putting up the links in my sidebar to all these cool new bloggers I'm reading. Have patience! Some of these chicks rock so hard. I'm thinking of saying a few words about a few of them (nice words!).

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OK, so here's my question.

If the Incredible Bulk (aged almost one YEAR, OMG, where is his next sibling?! Oh ... that's right ...) drops a green bean off of his highchair and his mother in her infinite sloth busy-ness fails to retrieve it immediately and Evil Genius Husband steps on it in his bare feet not once but THREE times ... is it my fault?

I mean, he stepped on it once. Why didn't he pick it up then? Or the next time, hmm?

OR THE NEXT?

I finally had to come in there, pick the squashed bean remains up from right in front of him, and dispose of them.

(note: EGH claims that he, himself, picked up those bean remains. I dispute this. Forensics has been contacted.)

Now EGH has always been a tad perceptionally impaired. He never fails to fail to find the three huge tubs of cottage cheese that reside in exactly the same place every time in the fridge. True, our fridge is just a weensy bit crowded, but still. If it's smaller than a gallon of milk he will not be able to locate it without assistance.

Speaking of the fridge, mayonnaise is apparently invisible to him. Which is a shame since he eats. it. on. everything. Everything must have cheese and mayo. Everything. But he can never find them. The mayonnaise, which we buy in whatever the next-size-down-from-gallon is, can be sitting at eye level in the front and I'll hear him roar: "Are we out of mayonnaise?!"

Me: (stomping up hall)
EGH: (cringing a bit as I stride into the kitchen) "I can't find I--"
Me: (snatching the mayo up from it's position eight inches from his nose and placing it in his hand)
EGH: (plaintively) "I didn't see it!"
Me: (stomping back down hall to open Blogger)

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This is terrible terrible influence of EGH genes! Witness the horror:




(And you thought I was lying about finding my camera. Hah!)

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This personality test is cool and nicked straight from Mommycakes (thanks Michele!). The manner in which you answer the questions is unusual. I'm a Cautious Thinker, BTW. Notice the rather alarming results. I'm one big bruiser of a chick, all authoritarian and masculine and stuff. All I need now is some piercings and a muscle car!

Oh ... wait ...