Since I began having children (listen to me, sounding like I'm trying to give the Duggars a run for their money...haha!), I've noticed a lot of randomness. Random items left around my house, random things to see in the world that were never noticed before, and random things both said and heard. I've decided that random is good. Random is funny. Random is.....well, it just is.
For instance, I notice an awful lot of random articles of clothing in my house. Or more accurately, clothing left in random places. T-shirts stuffed in the sofa cushions. Socks (non-matching, incidentally) under the coffee table. Baseball cleats in the bathroom. Shorts in the garage. Belts in my truck. (And while that may not technically be my house, we spend nearly enough time there to call it a vacation home and use it as a tax write off.) See? Random.
I also find great joy and amusement in the random verbal vomit that often spews out of my children. Take the other night. My loving children and doting husband had taken a quiet moment to find out what I would like for Christmas. (Read: I had to raise my voice to be heard over the football game and the clowning around to take an opportunity to make sure they knew that I did not really want another set of towels--lovely though they were--this year.) So when I said, "Okay guys, know what I really really want this year?" and Bug, with no warning whatsoever, looks up and shouts "CHICKEN!!!".... well, we all laughed until we cried and our bellies cramped up.
For the record, I do NOT want chicken this year for Christmas, either. Unless it comes disguised as a nice dinner out at a restaurant that doesn't shove what may or may not actually be chicken inside a soft flour tortilla, throw in a drink and chips and call it a "combo" meal. Oh, and it should include an after dinner treat of my very own copy of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure and a B52's CD.