10 reasons i love britax

I have a dream to become a Child Passenger Safety Expert. I love learning about this, especially about carseats. I spend a lot of time researching and reading about them and take pride in knowing how to install and use carseats correctly. Did you know that 80-95% of carseats are used incorrectly? Even a properly installed carseat won't work if the child isn't in the seat correctly. Also, a child who is in a seat correctly won't be fully protected if the carseat isn't installed correctly. I am passionate about my children being as safe as possible. I pay attention to carseats. I pay attention to how people use them, how children are harnessed in them, and to how the carseats work. I'm often saddened at what I see, but that's a whole other blog. Today's blog is inspired by two carseats that I installed in my van today. The more experience I have with carseats the more I love Britax. Along with pictures for your viewing pleasure, I'll tell you why. (Yes, I went out and took pictures...don't laugh at me. I'm on my favorite soapbox.)

1. Britax harness straps don't get twisty or scrunchy like these other seats:



















I have owned a Britax Roundabout for over three years. The straps are still perfectly straight and not scrunchy:



















This is our other Britax, a Marathon that we've owned for less than a year. You really can't tell that the Roundabout is any older:



















2. Britax seats come in cool and funky colors and patterns. You'll have to ask the Assitant Gardener why our colors are very tame and unfunky.

3. Britax are so easy to install. I've installed a lot of seats and Britax are easiest by far.

4. Many Britax seats have True Side Impact Protection.

5. The Companion infant seat has a higher weight and length limit than other infant seats. This made a difference of over 6 months of usage for us!

6. The Companion infant seat has an anti-rebound bar.

7. Britax seats can be tethered rear-facing. Other seats can't and are much harder to install and stabilize rear-facing.














Yes, Fat Girl is still rear-facing at 17 months and over 25 pounds. Children should stay rear-facing for as long as possible.

8. Britax seats allow children to be in a 5-point harness up to 80 pounds!

9. Britax seats have convenient belt holders that hold the straps aside for boarding.

10. Britax seats exceed US Safety Standards.

I love Britax!

what does it all mean?

Talking to Little Boy can sometimes be like "Who's on First." We talk in circles and go nowhere sometimes. Take this morning for example:

Little Boy mumbles something as he comes into my room at 6:30.
Me: What did you say?
LB: What?
Me: What did you say?
LB: Excuse me.
Me: No, not what DO you say, what DID you say?
LB: What?
Me: You said something, what was it?
LB: What did I say?
Me: That's what I want to know!
LB: I don't know.

I still don't know what he said. It must not have been very important.

Little Boy is very into signs. He wants to know what every sign says and what it means. He understands STOP signs and that the yellow sign with the picture of the see-saw on it means that a park is coming. Some signs take some explanation---like the orange signs telling us not to dig there because there are buried cables, and signs that say NO PARKING. Why can you park on the street in some places, but not others? Little Boy wants to know. I don't know, Little Boy, I just follow the signs.

Other signs Little Boy interprets for himself. At the park there is a sign that has a dog and there is a little pile of doggie doo behind the dog. The picture has a circle with a slash (you know--the "no" sign. Is there a name for one of those?) He asked me what that one meant and I told him "It says you should keep your dog on a leash at the park." "No!" said Little Boy. "It means no pooping at the park." That would actually make more sense given the poop in the picture. The hot water heater in our garage has this sticker affixed to it:

Little Boy asked what it meant. Before I could figure out how to explain it well, he said "I know! It means don't put fire on people." Good thinking, Little Boy. Don't say you didn't learn anything useful when you were three.

all is right with the world

My widowed squirrel has found a new friend! They look positively giddy as they chase each other around the tree trunks. Ah, young love.

warning: contents may explode

I have pillow issues. If I take off a pillowcase and see any discoloration I get a little queasy. Pillows are just stuffed germ carriers. I can get over this as long as the pillow doesn't look icky. Maybe we drool more than average people, but our pillows get yellow spots of wierdness on them and then I have to buy new pillows. Occasionally I'll wash them, but mostly I just throw them away and buy new ones because the sack o' lumpiness that comes out of the wash is not even recognizable as the pillow that went in.

I had a pillow that needed to be dealt with. Wash it or throw it away? The pillow was fairly new and still had plenty of use left, so I decided that a trip to the washer would be okay. I read the tag. "Machine Wash warm on gentle cycle. Dry on low heat. For best results, wash two or three pillows simultaneously for balance." Okay, I can do that. I found another pillow and threw that one in too. Anticipating nice clean smelling and maybe slightly lumpy pillows, I opened the washer. Apparently there was a mixup at the pillow making factory. The tag should have read "Warning: Contents May Explode. Wash at Your Own Risk." Stuffing everywhere. The pillow that didn't fully explode looked as if it had been used as a shield in an acid fight.

Moral of the story: Don't believe everything you read. Oh, and don't wash pillows.

i can't help it

I like to brag about my kids. I can't help it---they are just great kids and they make me very proud. Starring in today's shameless brag: Little Boy.

Yesterday, I was exhausted beyond belief and I needed a nap. I put Fat Girl down for her nap and told Little Boy that I was going to sleep for a little while. He said "Good Night Mom!" and went on with his playing. I could hear him occasionally while I was resting, but he just stayed in the family room and played with his toys. At one point, I heard Little Boy say to himself "Oh no! Now what am I going to do!?" I'm not sure what happened, but whatever it was he took care of it himself. I stayed in bed for an hour until Fat Girl rudely woke me up. I felt much better and thanked Little Boy profusely for allowing me to take a break.

Of course, an hour of no mommy around meant a big mess. The bed pillows and every throw pillow in the house were piled on the couch (oops, I mean airplane), stuffed animals were on the airplane in the middle of a cross country flight, toys were strewn from the bedroom to the family room and back again. I announced to Little Boy "Time to Clean up!" He half-heartedly started picking up a few thing. Then I told him that friends were coming over, but only if he helped clean up. I went on to vacuum up the popcorn that I had let Fat Girl throw all over the dining area and cleaned up the kitchen. Little Boy cleaned up the family room and as I was praising him for doing such a great job and even putting the pillows back on the couches correctly, he told me that he cleaned up his room too. This is what I found when I went to his room:

Isn't it amazing what a little motivation will do?

Did I mention that he's only 3?

and then there was one

I'm not an animal lover. I don't leave anti-freeze out for the neighbor's cats or lay in wait with my BB Gun waiting for an unsuspecting small animal, but I'm not an animal lover. They're just okay. The squirrels in my back yard, though, are another story. I love these little guys. Since we moved in this house, there have been two little (actually they are quite big for squirrels) hanging out in my backyard.

They chase each other up the tree, they chase each other down the tree. They chase each other on the fence and across the yard. They just generally play all day. My kids love to watch them. A couple of times, they got up right next to our kitchen window and peered in at us. They are friendly little guys.

A few days ago, we were backing out of our driveway and saw one of our little squirrel friends laying at the end of our driveway in the street---dead as a door nail. Little Boy asked what he was doing. "Um...I think he's taking a rest" you know, the long eternal kind? Looking back I should have said "He didn't listen to his mommy and went into the street and got hit by a car." That would have been a good teaching moment, even if it was rather morbid.

The lone squirrel runs around by himself now and it breaks my non-animal-loving heart. He looks so lonely running around that tree with nobody to chase him. I'm just holding out hope that my little squirrel friend will mourn quickly and find another friend to move into the yard. I can't take the sadness much longer.

scraphappiness

Scrapbooking is Happiness. It's ScrapHappiness. I'm not sure how that term formed in my little brain, but I think it actually could have been derived from a poster on a Babycenter board I used to frequent. I think she was "scraphappy" until a few people pointed out that it looked like she was "Crap Happy" and she changed her name. I assure you--I'm not CrapHappy, but ScrapHappy.

ScrapHappy and ScrapHappiness are not the same. ScrapHappy can only be described as an uncontrollable urge to scrapbook. ScrapHappiness comes when I've indulged in that urge. It's a high that only scrapbooking can give me.

I've been feeling very ScrapHappy lately. I've been running low on supplies, so I ventured to the local scrapbook store. OH the scrapbook store! It's the ulitimate drug. As I near the door and see the racks of papers and embellishments my heart races. As I enter, my heart skips a beat and a little excitment shiver goes up my spine. I could spend hours in there just browsing and trying to decide what to buy. I knew I needed this trip to be small to be friendly to the bank account balance, so I took Fat Girl with me. She's very good at telling me when it's time to get out of there while we still have money left to pay the bills. Fifteen minutes of scrapbook store bliss and $21.60 later, I had my loot. Yes-a little paper and some ribbon costs that much. I never said being ScrapHappy was cheap.

The ScrapHappy feeling is no greater than the moment I come home from the scrapbook store. I want to scrap and I want to do it now! That never works out, so it's like an itch I can't scratch for awhile.

Yesterday, I was finally able to do a little scrapbooking and AAAHHHH (angels start singing Hallelujah here)---ScrapHappiness! It does exist!


Little Boy was feeling a little ScrapHappy (or he just wanted to spend a little time with me and there was no keeping me from my scrapbooking supplies) and asked if he could do a page of his own. I handed him a peice of 12x12, a few pictures I wasn't planning to use, some scraps and a glue stick. He went to town and experienced ScrapHappiness for himself. I couldn't be more proud.

A little while later when I was on the phone and he used my paper cutter to destroy one of my new papers and a picture I was about to us? Not so proud.

Not bad for a three year old, eh?

seeing double

I had a dream.

Saturday night I dreamt that my sister-in-law (SIL) was pregnant with twin boys. She named them Jonathan and Bastian. I questioned her on the name "Bastian" because I thought it was kind of odd and because she prefers very tradtional names for her boys. She assured me that it had special meaning to her.

I didn't find it odd at all to dream about my SIL being pregnant. She really is pregnant right now with her third boy. I've had a few dreams about her pregnanies before. I thought it was entertaining mostly and made a mental note to email her sometime this week and tell her about my little dream. SIL emailed me first.

She had a dream.

Saturday night SIL dreamt that I was pregnant with twin girls. I named them Chelsea and Hilary (as in Clinton). She questioned me on the names because it's not secret that I'm no fan of Hilary Clinton. I assured her that I didn't like it either, but the Assistant Gardener had turned liberal and wanted to name our daughters after the Clintons.

We essentially had the same dream about each other on the same night. I'm finding it odd. Freakish even.

What does it all mean!?

Our conclusion: Somebody in the family is going to have twins. She says it's not her. I say it's not me. So, that leaves BIL and his wife (the newlyweds). Tag--You're It!

how the garden began...

Five years, 10 months ago, I was at my parents house in Florida on a short break from my studies at Brigham Young University . It was my 20th birthday and I was winding down from a wild night of partying (okay it wasn't wild- it was dinner out with my mom and my sister). I sat down at the computer to check my email before bed. Across the country Steve was enjoying the novelty of AOL by doing a profile search for Florida & BYU. I'm not sure what he was looking for or hoping to find, but he found me. We IMed for a few minutes with that sweet romantic "bliiing!" sound when a new IM would come in. It was merely small talk. He asked me about my job and I explained I was looking for a new one. He told me about the company where he worked and told me I should apply when I returned to Provo. He was sure to point out that I should tell them who had referred me and told me that his sister worked as the receptionist for the company. What he failed to point out was that he got a referral bonus if I was hired. He certainly had interesting ways of getting a bonus.

I returned to Provo and applied. His sister called him and told him and the following Saturday when he saw me online, I heard "Bliiing!" It was Him! We decided that we should meet that evening. Were we crazy!? He could have been an axe murderer! I was a nanny at the time and invited him to the house I was working (Yes, I was brilliant---not only put myself in danger, but three small defenseless children in danger as well.) He showed up and I invited him in. We talked for a few minutes and all of a sudden, I noticed that I had my hand on his leg! Whoa Sister---Slow Down! It didn't feel wierd, though. About ten minutes later he kissed me. I slapped him and made him leave. I mean, the nerve of this guy thinking that I would just let some stranger kiss me! I'm not that kind of girl. Alright. I am that kind of girl. I kissed him back and enjoyed every spine tingling, heart thumping moment of it. That evening turned into hours of smooching and talking in a parking lot up the canyon. He dropped me off at my apartment later and asked when he could see me again. He practically had to hold me up to keep me from melting into a puddle at his feet while I answered "as soon as possible!" Of course, I beat myself up for that one for the next 8 hours until he called me. So much for playing hard to get.

We were inseparable after that. Three days later, I opened my big mouth and said "I love you" totally confident he'd say it back. Pretty presumptuous of me, don't you think? Luckily, I was right. Less than a week after meeting for the fisrt time, we went on an impromtu road trip to Las Vegas. Yes, I went to Vegas with a stranger. I will lock my daughter in her room until she's married, I tell you that much. We gazed lovingly into each other's eyes and at engagement rings. Just a few weeks after we met, I accompanied him to California for his sister's wedding. I guess he thought I was a keeper introducing me to the family so soon! There was some sillyness on his part about having to meet my family before he proposed though, so that didn't happen until a little over a month later. Pshaw. I guess he was the only one using his brain.

He proposed to me on the beach in Cocoa Beach, Florida just as the sun was rising above the water early in the morning. It was beautiful and I said YES!

Exactly ten months after our initial IM moment, we tied the eternal knot. We married in Orlando, Florida at the LDS Orlando Temple. That was five years ago and we are still inseparable. The love we felt for each other five years ago pales in comparison to what we have now. He is my soul mate and my life is better and more beautiful because he is in it.

Happy Annivesary, baby. This is just the beginning!

P.S. He got the bonus.

P.P.S. He took me out to dinner with it. Ya, I'm that good.

give me a break

My mommy is in town taking care of me, so I'll be scarce. See ya in a week!

mofs

I've found the secret to surviving stay-at-home-motherhood: MOFs. It's not a drug that gives you extra energy. It's not a machine to give you extra time in the day. It's not a robotical babysitter. MOFs are "My Online Friends." MOF Emily's husband created this acronym to make it easier to communicate with his wife. It has since evolved into The Cosa MOFstra. You can read the entire story behind it here. You can even see a picture of me and some of MOFs at a recent GNO (another internet acronym-Girl's Night Out) held at my house.

Lest you think I am weird or worse, desperate, let me explain. I have many real-life friends (never mind you that many of them were MOFs first). I have a very fun and satisfying social life. But, staying at home with two kids all day can get a little monotonous and lonely sometimes. Take naptime for instance: Moms without MOFs might mop their kitchen. Me? I make myself comfy in front of my computer and get down to business. I can get advice, I can give advice, and I can participate in the fun lives of those thousands of miles away. Who is pregnant (Most recently it was Amy due to a failed Vasectomy)? Which brand of vacuum cleaner is really the best (most of MOFs say Dyson)? What's for dinner (I've gotten some of my best recipes from MOFs!)? It's adult conversation to make me feel like I'm using my mind for more than diapering, cooking, and cleaning. It's a place where I can talk about my kids and their little issues and find out that there are many other kids doing the exact same things. Often times, it's just being a sounding board and offering comfort.

What about cleaning, cooking, and child-rearing? Oh, that stuff happens too. It's just a lot more fun with MOFs to share it all with.

adventures of little boy

Little Boy can build. Lincoln Logs are the toy at our house. He builds houses, garages, fences, barns, and even has figured out how to attach his monster trucks end to end using the logs and makes a train.

Little Boy can imagine. We don't have a couch--We have a monster truck. We don't have a love seat--We have an airplane.

Little Boy can make me laugh. Yesterday, he told me: "I'm going to drive a monster truck when I'm in High School." Today he told his best friend, SF, "My dad's at work. He makes money."

Little Boy is sweet, silly, strong, independent, loving, and bright.

If I had one wish then it would be--That you could have a Little Boy just like me.

oh mandy

Mornin', just another day
Happy people pass my way
Lookin' in their eyes
I see a memory
I never realized
How happy you made me, oh Mandy
Well you came and you gave without takin'
But I sent you away, oh Mandy
Well, you kissed me and stopped me from shakin'
And I need you today, oh Mandy

Yes, it's Barry Manilow today. I get this song. I get it right down to the name: Mandy. She isn't a lost love, I didn't send her away, and she didn't really kiss me, but I still get it. Mandy is my best friend.

Mandy and I met our Freshman year of college when we were assigned dorm rooms next to each other (we would have been neighbors, but the bathroom was in between. Stupid bathroom.) We clicked immediately even though she thought I was a bit of a dork since as I unpacked my belongings I had my high school choir CD jammin' on my stereo. But, she overlooked the wierdness of it all and we became fast friends.

It's been eight years since we met and our hearts are still close, but physically we are far apart. We live on opposite sides of the country and I miss her. We are both married with babies and we have our own lives to keep up with. But, we never lose sight of each other and the special friendship we share.

Mandy is the kind of friend everyone should have. We can talk about anything or nothing at all and it's still fun. We know everything about each other---the good, the bad, and the ugly---and we still love each other. I can hug Mandy and it never feels wierd or forced. We're like school girls at a slumber part when we giggle about everything, play with each other's hair, and act all kinds of silly. Sometimes we go a length of time without talking and when we do talk again it's like we never left off. We say the same thing at the same time and we finish each other's sentences. There is some kind of connection between Mandy and I that I don't think either one of us fully understands or can explain. We just know it's there, it's real, and it's amazing.

It's only Mandy who will sing the Golden Girl's theme song with me...Thank you for being a friend! That's how I know we're meant to be.

more about me

Shelah invited me to join this chain letter of the blogging world. Lest I be smitten with plagues and certain tragic death, I'm joining.

Instructions:
Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.

1) ScienceWoman
2) Professor Me
3) Musical Mom
4) SheBooksIt
5) The Constant Gardener

Next select five people to tag:
1) Emlouisa
2) Taffi
3) Linsey
4) Steph
5) Misty

What were you doing 10 years ago? I was 15 and a Sophomore in High School. I was hanging out with the wrong crowd and getting into trouble. Luckily, my parents caught me and whisked me out of that situation in a hurry and I turned around!

What were you doing 1 year ago? We were happily settled in our rental home thinking "gosh it's nice that we've lived in the same house for almost a year." Give it a few months and the moving began once more. I was just discovering cranky Fat Girl's dairy allergy and going on an elimination diet to help her.

Five snacks you enjoy:
1. Soft chocolate chip cookies and milk
2. potato rosemary bread w/ olive oil & balsamic vinegar
3. Peanut Butter Cup & Reese's Pieces Blizzard
4. Strawberry Milk
5. Cadbury creme eggs (is it Easter yet?)

Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:
1. Nothing Compares to You (Sinead O'Connor)
2. The Backyardigans Theme Song
3. Wings Beneath my Wings (Bette Midler)
4. The Star Spangled Banner
5. God Bless America

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1. Buy my mom a new house with an enormous kitchen
2. Have a few more kids and Hire a nanny (these must go hand in hand)
3. Hire a personal chef
4. Build my dream home
5. Buy The Assistant Gardener (the hubby) a fully restored '49 Split Oval Window VW Beetle in black

Five bad habits:
1. Overusing exclamation points! (!!!)
2. Imagining the worst
3. Picking at my nails
4. Calling my dh to whine
5. Talking too much

Five things you like doing:
1. Scrapbooking
2. Reading
3. GNO (girl's night out)
4. Learning all I can about carseats
5. Being a wife and mom

Five things you would never wear again:
1. a Size 16
2. Skorts
3. a side ponytail
4. slap bracelets
5. pleated pants

Five favorite toys:
1. computer
2. punches
3. digital camera
4. kids
5. phone

my montage

I created a montage of my little spuds...thanks for the inspiration Rachelle!

Our Wonderful World

choose an identity

Who are you?

Choose to comment on my blog and you'll get to "choose an identity." If only it were that easy. Who do I want to be today? Do I want to be wonder woman like my good friend Lee? A super scrapper like Alissa? A voracious reader and witty writer like Shelah? A great story teller like Emily? Just because I want those things in my identity doesn't make it happen. I don't choose all of my identity. My identity has chosen me.

We move. A lot. I look forward to the chance to have a new group of people to get to know. It's a new start. I have this grand idea of who I am and am not going to be. I'm going to be witty! I'm going to be funny! I'm going to be confident! I'm going to be interesting! I'm not going to be a loud mouth! I'm not going to bare my entire life to everyone! It never works. That's not my identity. I'm not that funny, I'm not that witty, and I'm really not that interesting. I am a loud mouth and with that loud mouth I tend to be an open book and give way too much information. I do make friends easily, but I'm not very confident in those friendships because who knows what they are thinking? Maybe they just pretend to like me out of pure pity. See, no confidence.

Some parts of my identity just happened to me. I have Lupus. I didn't choose to have Lupus. I was determined not to let it be a part of my identity. It is. Hello, I'm Alicia and I have Lupus. I'm tired a lot, I hurt a lot, my brain is a bit foggy, and my cocktail of medications makes me moody and impatient (well, more so). I'm so many more things than a sick Lupus patient. It's part of my identity, but it's not who I am.

I am a Wife, Mother, Daughter, Child, Woman, Sister, and Friend. I love my God and my family and will fight for and defend them. I am of daughter of God and of great worth. That is my identity and I choose that.

my angel girl

Before I became your mother, my angel girl,
We were friends

I knew you
I wanted you
I missed you
I prayed for you
I carried you

Now you are my daughter, my angel girl,
But you will forever be my friend

the great snow story

I'm not a good story teller. I skip parts, have a hard time staying on track, miss punch lines, and I ramble. Little Boy thinks I'm a great story teller.

It's snowing today. While driving along, Little Boy and I had the following conversation:

LB: Is the snow coming from the sky?

Me: Yes, it comes from the clouds just like rain. When it rains when it's really cold outside, the rain turns to snow. If it gets warmer outside, the snow turns back into rain. That's why it's wet when it snows.

LB: (clapping hands) What a great story! I love that story, mom! What a great snow story.

If Little Boy thinks so, it must be so.

fat girl & little boy

They are my spuds, tater tots if you prefer.

Little Boy is in fact, a little boy. He is 3. He thinks he is a very big boy. He is into all things transportation with monster trucks and big jets at the top of the list. He can build a mean Lincoln Log house (or garage...those monster trucks and jets need a place to stay). He's a big bad preschooler with a giant imagination and a hunger for learning.

Fat Girl is well, sort of fluffy. She's really not fat, but it's a cute name, no? She does, however, have a very bubbly bum that J. Lo would be proud of. We are thinking of insuring it. She is 1. At some point, I'll have to stop letting her run around nekkid and giggle at her cheeks jiggling. Jiggle-Jiggle. Giggle-Giggle. It's just what we do. She's an angel in disquise as a moody girl. She loves to read books and I can't tell her no when she climbs on my lap and says "pease read" in that raspy voice that is signature Fat Girl.

I am the mom. The baker of the tots. The keeper of the spuds. The Constant Gardener.

tagged by taffi

I made the mistake of visiting Taffi's Blog today. I got tagged. I could just pretend I didn't go there and didn't see the post saying that anyone reading that had not been tagged yet could consider herself tagged. I could have done that. But, then I'd worry. I'd worry Taffi would say "So, did you read my blog?" And then I'd have to lie and say, "You have a blog?" Worse, GNO could come around and I would say "Taffi, That story about Sweet Girl and the pond was too funny." I'd be caught. Like a deer in headlights. So, tagged am I.

Seven Things to Do Before I Die:
1. Get caught up on my sleep
2. Catch up on scrapbooking
3. See all my grandchildren
4. Get a maid
5. Get a tummy tuck
6 Get a boob lift
7. Eat at The Melting Pot again

Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1. Draw
2. Play the Tuba (or any other instrument!)
3. Change the Past
4. Predict the Future
5. Live Alone
6. Dance
7. Fly

Seven Things that Attract Me to My Spouse:
1. He takes care of his body
2. He acts totally interested in my scrapbook pages
3. He rubs my feet while we watch TV
4. He doesn't watch a lot of sports and rarely watched ESPN
5. He helps me clean and take care of the kids
6. He is forgiving and overlooks my faults
7. He is a hard worker

Seven Things I Say (or write!) Most Often:
1. I love you!
2. Mommy is busy.
3. In a minute.
4. Stop that.
5. What do you want?
6. PLEASE pay attention when you pee!
7. My name isn't mommy anymore.

Seven Books (or series) I Love:
1. The Secret Garden
2. My Little Dinosaur
3. The Miracle of Forgiveness
4. Believing Christ
5. The Da Vinci Code
6. Harry Potter series
7. Trixie Beldon (are those still around?)

Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again:
1. Ever After
2. Pretty Woman
3. Runaway Bride
4. My Best Friend's Wedding
5. Princess Bride
6. Napoleon Dynamite
7. The Wedding Singer

People I Want to Join in:
I'd hate for anyone to miss out on the pleasure of answering such insightful questions, so I'm going to take a line from my good friend Taffi. If you are reading this, consider yourself tagged. You should do it. If you don't, you'll have 100 years bad luck. It's a proven fact, you know. It happened to my friend's uncle's old war buddy.