I am glad that I have gotten back to my computer after such a hiatus. I just have one thought to share on this very snowy Sunday afternoon. I am so glad that Kevin (my best good friend’s hubby) has figured out that perfume bottles can’t be flushed down my toilet. Hard lesson learned, but it is true. My Papa Smurf (aka, Kev) found this out after doing major surgery to my potty and getting 2000 Flushes Blue all over him and my bathroom. Papa Smurf found this out after three (count them) three trips to Walmart that this is true. Now he, blue hands, jeans, shirt, and other parts too, knows for sure and positive, that four inch long bottles of Calgon body spray won’t go through the little squirrely part of the potty bottom. He does know now, however, how to take the potty apart, how to use a snake, how to successfully use Anna’s toothbrush cup to bail out the potty, how to shop for plumbing supplies, and how to keep a real sense of humor. I just love Kevin. Now Jill has to reside with ol’ Papa Smurf. Ol’ Mister Blue Hands. We told him he could tell his friends that he was touring with the Blue Man Group this weekend. Maybe they will buy that. I doubt it. Now he, professional accountant guy, will have to brave going to work with hands the color of the Caribbean. (The whole reason I buy the blue stuff is so that you will feel like you are in the Caribbean even in bathroom….) I hope that Kevin has learned his lesson, and I really really hope that his hands are not blue in two weeks when we go down to Carolina for the circus, and this one is paramount: I hope that this never ever happens again…..especially to me.