It's like this...

It’s time once again for the award shows to come pouring out of Hollywood like a tsunami of ooey-gooey-back-patting excess guaranteed to raise your blood sugar level just by watching the promos. ‘I’d like to thank all the little people….without whom….” I’m one of the little people. Ok, not little as far as size goes, but you know, little as in not famous. I’m about as little as they come. No one gives out awards in my category. They don’t even HAVE a category for me, but if they did, I’m sure I could come up with a doozy of an acceptance speech. I’d like to thank the academy for this honor—I know there are better mom’s out there, those who’ve given their kids a Wii, cell phones with unlimited texting and a bazillion gigs of music as well taking their kids on vacations to Hawaii, Disneyland, Disneyworld, the Bahamas and have sold their own blood to get them Hannah Montana concert tickets. They deserve this honor for always stocking their pantries with oodles of food from Cos...

My tongue needs a bandaid. And some burn cream. Perhaps a four hour ice bath would be useful as well. Do they make bandaids for lips? Because I could use a sterile covering over them too. Powerful analgesics, the kind you can only get with a prescription from a doctor, would not be out of the question either. I'd prefer that they be applied directly on my lips, tongue, and oh heck, I'll just gargle with it. You see, tonight I nearly met an untimely death by Chinese food. General Tso's Chicken to be exact. It started out innocently enough. My husband, children and I went out to dinner with my father, my sister and her children, twelve of us altogether. Thankfully there were enough people there to make sure my agony did not go unnoticed. The only thing that would have made it all more bearable would have been if they had managed to catch my writhing on video for later replays at family reunions. I love Chinese food, and I've even eaten General Tso's chicken in the...