My son, he has the Israeli salad gene. Tonight's dinner: peanut butter and jelly with a side of teeny little tomatoes and an entire cucumber (of course I sliced it for him, what kind of mother do you take me for?). I don't know, it just strikes me as funny.

Me, I don't care for the tomatoes. I only eat cucumber if it has been (a) made into pickles or (b) sliced very thinly and cleverly hidden somehow. I mean, I'm glad he likes the stuff, but I just don't see the appeal.

My left contact keeps getting all out of whack. I think that means it's bedtime.

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