OK, not really. I'm still stuck on the freaky dolls. I was too busy watching the Pens kick some butt last night to post the truly, genuinely disturbing doll photos. There is so much worse to be seen. I would be sharing the bottom of the barrel right now except:

- Mr. Husband has offered to go to Cleveland in exchange for me not making him look at another pair of freaked out glass eyeballs. I have not yet decided if this seems like a fair deal.

- I have stuffed two of Alexis' way more normal dolls in the bottom of the toy box so far today. They looked at me wrong and now I don't ever want to see them again.

- My mind's eye is pleading with me to make it stop.

So, you're off the hook. For now.

In the spirit of changing the subject, here are some random tidbits:

- We ran to the fish store earlier today to pick up a few cleaner shrimp for the saltwater tank. While in line to pay for them, some random guy started talking to Mr. Husband.

RG: Wow! Those are some big shrimp!
Mr. H: Yeah. (Mr. H still takes all that "don't talk to strangers" training he got as a kid VERY seriously)
RG: What kind of shrimp are those?
Mr. H: Peppermint Shrimp.
RG: Cool! So do they taste like peppermint?
Mr. H: No.
RG: Oh. So what do they do?
Mr. H: They clean the tank.
RG: Oh. But they don't taste like peppermint, huh?

Ahhhhh, Pittsburgh's best and brightest at work.

- Once upon a time, I wanted some Iam's coupons so I filled out a survey online. My punishment for saving a buck or two on dog food was that I ended up signed up for their newsletter. This month's version came to my email box with the subject line, "Should Meg sleep in your bed?"

I know the answer to that question. No. Never. No way. Bulldog + My Bed = Bad Idea. No discussion necessary.

- Alexis is trying very hard to master the art of finger signs, especially the alphabet. She can sing her ABC's like a champ, but seems to think in order to be a Master of the Alphabet Universe she has to be able to sign all the letters. So if you see her out and about this week, just know that she doesn't normally spend her every waking moment staring at her hands and contorting her fingers in all sorts of odd positions. Nor does she usually spend ten minutes trying to sign an "L" only to realize that she is signing "I love you," which of course warrants the need to yell "I LOVE YOU" at the top of her lungs. Frankly, it's a pretty darn cute variety of neurosis she's got going on.