Me (trying to encourage the Captain to eat something other than bread): Mmmm, I love cottage cheese.

Captain Jelly Belly: No, Mommy, you love me.

Me: Yes, that’s true. I love you the best. You’re number one.

Captain Jelly Belly (rolling eyes): No, Mommy, Thomas [the tank engine] is number one.

I can see my time of being a know-nothing parent has begun!

Captain Jelly Belly adores Thomas the Tank Engine (a steam engine and his set of friends). He has a few Thomas books and they are his favourites — we read them every day. The last time we were at the toy store I picked up a little flyer that showed all the available trains, tracks, and accessories. Now this catalogue is the Captain’s favourite “book” and he asks for it to be “read” to him every naptime and at bedtime.

I just finished reading it for like, the twentieth time. Highlights include phrases like, “And here’s Percy covered in chocolate, and covered in coal dust, and covered in soap suds, and you can buy them as a three-piece set” and “Here’s the regular Engine Shed, and here is the deluxe Engine Shed with sounds and launching action” and “If you buy this track set and this track set, you can make this bigger set as shown in this picture.”

I think the world of marketing has invaded our house!

We just got back from playgroup at my friend Dani’s house. She lives way out in the country on a huge lot surrounded by trees. Her house is kind of like a really nice cottage, with a pool and a screened in porch at the back. It feels a lot like going to the cottage for the weekend, only it’s just a 20 minute drive away and we only ever stay for an hour or so.

Captain Jelly Belly was nervous about going in the pool this morning and I used that as a welcome excuse to stay on the screened porch the whole time — because there were deerflies everywhere. I got totally squicked out, and when a few of them got inside the porch area due to people coming and going I was downright paranoid about killing them all before they bit me or my babies. On the walk out to our car I got bit twice, and even though I loaded the kids and our bags as quickly as possible, four deerflies got trapped in the car with us. I took them out using the Captain’s juice cup, but the carcasses in our trunk gave me the major heebie jeebies.

This is why I totally will never own a cottage. I just am not an outdoor person. I can see where the Captain gets his fear of strange places from — I have a very narrow comfort zone and I don’t like to stray from it. Bugs? Eek eeek eek!

For years, Sir Monkeypants and I couldn’t agree on what kind of pizza to order. He likes pizza with thin, crispy crust, while I prefer a thick, gooey, greasy crust. He likes minimal cheese and lots of chunky toppings, while I like thick cheese and small, sparse toppings (except for the mushrooms — you can put as many on there as you can get to fit). So we’d alternate, sometimes ordering from Pizza Hut (thin crust veggie special), sometimes ordering from Collonade (a local restaurant of the super-cheese variety), sometimes compromising on cheaper fare like Pizza Pizza or the next-to-the-rental-store Lorenzo’s.

But last winter we finally found common ground when a Domino’s franchise opened up in our nearby mini-mall. It was cheap and had just the right combination of chewy-but-not-too-chewy crust and chunky-but-not-too-chunky toppings. Since they opened up several months ago, we’ve gotten take out from them at least once a week.

We usually go and pick up our order too, since delivery costs a couple of bucks and it’s literally a two minute drive away. So since the beginning of our Domino’s obsession, we’ve known that the franchise was opened and is run by an older couple — probably in their late 50s or early 60s, I would guess. They’re super nice and I love the fact that whenever I go in there, they are bantering away with the teenage help as if they are everyone’s grandparents. I’m not sure what possessed them to start a new business at their age but I love ordering from there because they work there — even though it’s a chain store I feel like it’s our own little place, our own little part of the neighbourhood.

The last few times I’ve been in there, the woman has called me by name — that’s when I started to realize that maybe we order pizza a little too often. She always recognizes me as soon as I come in and even lets me jump the line — she just grabs our standard order and takes my money (I always know exactly how much it is) on the side. Last time I was in she called me by name and confided that when she got the word to make up a pizza that matched our standard order, she thought to herself, “Oh, I wonder if this is for Lynn.” It turns out her name is Bonnie and now I’ve totally adopted her as my surrogate mom in Ottawa. She told me that the combo we used to get — large pizza and 3 cokes — that had been phased out in the spring would be back soon. I so totally have an “in” at the Domino’s now!

Is it wrong that I love our pizza franchise owners?

It happened to me again last night — I got sucked into watching CSI. I caught the teaser when Veronica Mars ended and it looked interesting and the next thing I knew, it was 55 minutes later and I was angry. When will I ever learn? Sir Monkeypants was out playing ultimate so there was no one to talk some sense into me.

It started with the finding of the bodies of two young women, dumped in the same grave, and I thought that was kind of interesting. Then I thought that, knowing this show, it would probably turn out to be PURE COINCIDENCE. And sure enough, it was! Well, close enough. The CSI team totally focused on one of the bodies — no idea why. The other one was never analyzed or mentioned at all. At the end when one of the culprits was (of course) giving a full confession to the CSI team with (of course) no police present, he casually mentioned that this other girl died totally by accident, unrelated to the other murder, and heck, he thought he’d throw her in too. And that’s it!

Plus, the big bad guy was played by Zeljko Ivanek, who is such a typecast Hey Who Is That Guy? that I knew the instant he appeared on the screen that he was a) evil and b) guilty. So there wasn’t even the usual token suspense.

GAH!! When will I ever learn??

Well, it’s July again and that means that Sir Monkeypants and I are busy watching a minimum of 3 hours a day of Tour De France coverage. Thank God we’ve already finished watching the entire season of Veronica Mars or there’d be some serious TV contention. On Saturday, the first day, we watched nearly six hours of coverage. When I caught myself watching Wayne Gretzky give an interview about what an amazing athlete Lance Armstrong is, I realized that perhaps there really is a limit to the amount of Tour coverage they should broadcast.

So far Lance looks pretty unbeatable. He’s already announced that this will be his last year racing and that he wants to go out with a win, and unless something terribly unlucky happens, it looks like he’ll get his wish. I must say I’m surprised he’s retiring given that he’s only 34. I guess that’s old for sport, but usually the tour sports at least a few 36 and 37-year-olds. Maybe he wants to go out on top in order to maximize his marketing potential. If so I can’t really blame him. And really, what more does he have to accomplish and prove? He’s done it all!

More interesting this year is to see who might be a contender for Lance’s title next year. There’s a couple of new names in the mix already. Personally I’ve been a fan of Roberto Haras for a couple of years now so I’d like to see him do well and make a run for the gold. Go Haras!

Today I got a phone call from a Jehovah’s Witness lady who wanted to share her testimony. At first I was pretty put out. Like, you can’t even be bothered to come knocking door to door, wearing suits in 30 degree heat, anymore? But then I was kind of grateful — it was way easier telling the phone lady that I wasn’t interested than turning away someone at my front door. If they could now progress to the level of mass-spam-email, we’d all just be happier. And really, isn’t that what they want for everyone?

Captain Jelly Belly is into Thomas The Tank Engine these days, and he has a little Thomas and a little Percy that rarely leave his side. This morning while I was changing his diaper he told me, “Mommy, I love Thomas, and I love Percy.” I think they definitely rank higher on the Captain scale than everything else, except probably his beloved Daddy.

For the past few days I’ve asked him every day what we should get Daddy for Father’s Day. Every time he tells me, “Diesel 10,” who is the big bad guy in the world of Thomas. He’s totally convinced that that is what Sir Monkeypants would love to have. Is this so they can play trains together, or is it because he thinks his Daddy is the only person who can safely contain Diesel 10’s evilness?

Sir Monkeypants, you saw nothing, you heard nothing.

We went to the park this afternoon and I made the aquaintance of two lovely young ladies. Emily and Laura are both 4 years old. They insisted on telling me all about their lives while they took turns pushing Captain Jelly Belly in the swing.

On going to school next year…
Laura: My mommy says I have to put my name on everything so I know what’s mine.

On what we are having for dinner…
Laura (approvingly): Mac and cheese is always good.

On bumble bees…
Emily: One time I had three bites on my head. My dad pulled them off and I cried because it hurt but then my dad said, “Stop crying, they’re gone,” so I did.

On a lady walking past…
Emily: My mommy looks like that but different. She is wearing a green shirt but with leaves on it.

On the Captain and Gal Smiley…
Laura: I’m much, much bigger than both of them.

As we were leaving the park…
Laura: Bye! See you next time!

The First Lady has officially claimed a nickname of her own: Gal Smiley. So named as it’s super easy to get her to smile — she’s just super happy.

Consider the name change papers officially filed.