Food groups

Those of you that follow the misadventures that make up this blog know that I enjoy zombies. Wacky zombies... Anyway, I have been known to encourage the children to let loose with their inner zombie on occasion. Graeme does a delightful growl in a most zombie-esque manner and I've managed to get Miranda to monotone the phrase, "Mmmm brains..." once in a while. So, now that you have a little background I can relate the following brief anecdote.

I received a call from my wife the other day regarding Miranda. Apparently she came home from pre-school explaining that Mrs. Dorris (the teacher) had told her that brains are not food. We have no idea what caused this revelation. I like to think that she was gnawing on the head of one of her classmates. Most likely she was chanting to herself, "Mmm brains...," either under her breath or a little more vocally. Either way, I can't help but be a little proud. My little girl, all growing up and being undead.

We had an early Christmas with the letter 'r' the other day. We receieved Super Mario Strikers. What a wonderful game that is. You've got to give it to Nintendo - they may put the Mario crew in every game they can, but the characters manage to bring their own brand of fun to whatever situation they find themselves in. Strikers offers an arcade style soccer experience filled with the power-ups you're used to and some attitude you might not be. Certainly the Gamecube game of the season. Pick it up if you have a one, you won't be disappointed.

Still hunting around for a book to read for number 50. It'll be my luck to miss the goal due to laziness in finding something.

And antibiotics are good. I spent most of the weekend trying to claw my throat out due to a staph infection. Swallowing was an exercise in personal torture... Fortunately I managed to get some medicine (after forking over far too much money for after hour fees) and tame the wee beasties. Accursed bacteria...