Where's the eraser?

I remember as a kid watching my dad fill out his tax forms. The yelling and pulling out of hair, all accompanied by the mantra of "They don't make you do this back home!". What could be less than lovely about taxes if that is the response it generates from someone?
As I have gotten older I have attempted to do my own taxes and have finally given in to hiring someone to figure it out instead. I only have to seperate the dumb receipts and fill out one page before we can go in.
So....
I have spent far too long today going over and seperating receipts into many little piles. Travel.... insurance.... interest paid...... charitable deductions... blah, blah, blah..... Once I have seperated the multi piles I have to add them up and then remember in what column the number was supposed to be in to begin with.
Carry the one... divided by 7.... move to line 94 on page 4 of form what?!?

Good grief. Where did I put the number for H&R Block maybe I can pay for them to do one extra page..... there is no point having two bald people living in my house. ;)

Pass the what?

Last night for dinner my family and I sat down for a fabulous meal of spaghetti (puketti is our affectionate name for it). My youngest son kept asking for "Paper John" to go along with his meal. Not having a clue what he was talking about we all sort of ignored his request and ate. Suddenly someone... I think Brownie.... asked for some parmesean cheese. Lo and behold... that was exactly what Jellybean wanted all along. Who'd a known?

Basketball anyone?

Saturday was a beautiful day... dry... very little wind action. Great. We made the decision that we would go as a family to what my youngest son calls the "blue" park and shoot some hoops. My blonde son is on the basketball team at the Middle School and since this is his first season ever playing the game... we are trying to be supportive and give him extra practice/playing time so that he can build up his confidence.
We are so not the smartest people in the world.....
My husband, my son, our neighbor and myself all began a "nice, easy" game of two-on-two. Sounds great doesn't it??
Picture if you will... two full grown horribly out of shape men and one teenager who could use a few less triple decker sandwiches battling over a smelly orange ball. There was so much huffing and puffing it was amazing to hear. Grunts and groans galore... the funniest was that all of the adults go to the gym several times a week and are in "shape". HaHaHa.
How did I do... you might ask....
Well... if you remember the fact that I am currently knocked-up... you might see the obvious reason why I should not have played... but as I said before we are not the smartest... I did my best to jostle the ball and pretend to shoot once in a while. I spent most of the time being mauled to death by my son's sharp elbows and wetting myself. I hurt in areas I did not know I had.
It was great! I think we played to 10 and then had to have a break that is still in effect... probably forever.