Eat Your Wheaties!

You definitely have to eat your Wheaties to live in this ol' house! In fact, I've been through so much lately with the house that I've decided to nominate myself for the cover of the Wheaties box. I really think it's warranted. To go through the mental, physical, and emotional anguish (all while pregnant may I remind you) of living in a run-down 140 year old house and still be standing is quite the accomplishment! Oh, yes, we are constantly shelling out cash faster than Rhett can earn it and there have been more than a few psychotic screaming/crying episodes and poor BFG didn't get to sleep in her room for weeks because it was all of 90 degrees upstairs. But we are still standing. I'd like to see if Kobe, or Favre, or Peyton could live like this!


And what brings on this conquering attitude you ask? I'd be glad to tell you all about how I killed a baby snake INSIDE my house last week. Who knew I had it in me? But don't tell General Mills about how I called Rhett right afterward (still holding the bloody knife) crying hysterically screaming at him that "I was so done with this house." Yeah, that might blow my chances at the Wheaties cover shot.

Trying to remember if I have ever in my life eaten a bowl of Wheaties,
Mama Said