A bullet-point blog post because I'm feeling scatterbrained today.

• "Ahh, the best things in life are $38.99 on Amazon." Witty observation from my girl Margarita that made me laugh out loud when I read it.

• I'm in one of those phases that seems terribly, horribly busy in that I don't have time to read or to blog or to lay around like a lazy slug (3 of my favorite pastimes) but I can't quite put my finger on what has me so overly occupied. Christmas shopping/wrapping/parties/gatherings are part of it, sure, but that doesn't seem to account for enough of my lost time.

• We have a routine where Alan gives the boys (1 dog, 1 cat) their morning treats and when I get home in the evenings, I distribute Treat Round Two. They know it, too - they could not possibly care less about me when I get up but as soon as The Boy sets a toe out of bed, they're ecstatic. Same in the afternoons - they give him these quizzical, "Oh - have you been gone somewhere????" looks while they positively dance around me. Well, I had a very long, trying day today and when at last I FINALLY arrived home, I lifted down the Mystical Magical Treat Box as doggy and kitty capered about excitedly. I strewed some treats on the floor for the Sprocket-Dog and was about to set Finnovar's portion out on his table. Sprocket ate one treat, scampered over to me, cocked his head and looked up at me. I swear, if there had been a think-balloon over that puppy's head, it would have read, "What are you - HIGH?!?" I had set out a handful of cat treats for the dog and was inches away from laying steak-shaped bites on the cat's table. D'oh!

• Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella? Fo' drizzle.

• This might be one of those 'you had to be there' for it to be funny, but I hope not. In our home, gender roles are somewhat reversed in that I am the sports fan. I follow several sports, I care (though I don't sulk or throw tantrums) about who wins, I play fantasy football. The husband? He is vaguely aware that there is a game called football, he remembers hearing of this 'baseball' phenomenon and although he enjoys hockey, I think the allure lies solely with Don Cherry and his sartorial splendour rather than the boys on the ice. So much for background - on Sunday evening, after a long day of Christmas shopping, everyday errands and miscellaneous missions, we stopped at Applebee's for burgers. As we're munching, suddenly Alan says, "Hey - that's Jessica Simpson!" I look up at the TV and think this is remarkably lame, even for my sports-impaired darling. "That's SEBASTIAN JANIKOWSKI," I reply. "No, it's Jessica Simpson," Alan says, explaining, "They're showing her because that guy, the quarterback for the Cowboys, he's dating her." I squint at the television, wondering if I've had too many martinis (though I am only midway through one) and respond, "I promise you that's Sebastian Janikowski and even though I know remarkably little about his personal life, I'm prepared to promise you he's not dating Tony Romo." Alan looks at me as though he, too, thinks I've had too many martinis and says, "I may not know my football but I know my hot, vapid blondes and I'm telling you, that's Jessica Simpson!" I retort, "I may not know my hot, vapid blondes but I know the Raiders and I know Bobby Bowden's boyZ, and I'm telling you, that's SEBASTIAN JANIKOWSKI." It was at this point that Josh The Kindly Waiter pointed out that we were looking at two different televisions showing markedly different games.

• I stand by my assertion that Sebastian Janikowski is not dating Tony Romo.