We Won

Folks, I’m sorry for the flurry of posts but a lot is happening. 

Today, Illinois Democrats broke down the two-year-long stalemate and forced a budget down Rauner’s wrinkly throat. 

What I love about the whole thing is that there was no spinelessness, no whining, no dithering on the part of the state Democrats. They were principled, strong, and finally – FINALLY! – smart and strategic. That’s the Democrats I want to see and support. 

I know everybody is tired of my budget posts but believe me, I’m even more done with them than you are. I’m happy that we won.


I’m so tired of the hand-wringing over the Twitter reaction to the Declaration of Independence quotes. What, like everybody knows the entire text by heart? And nobody would have mistaken the quote for a neurotic dig on Obama had this happened in July of 2012? 

It’s good to feel superior but how justified is this feeling? 

Doesn’t Matter

I want to get a T-shirt that says “I don’t care how many languages my daughter ends up speaking.” This will simplify many conversations. 

I’m so tired of hearing the popular wisdom on the importance of language learning in childhood. I’m usually the only actual language education professional in the conversation, and I know for a fact it’s all bunk. 

The only activity every child needs to do is play. That’s it, period. It doesn’t matter when they learn to walk, talk, eat with a spoon, speak foreign languages, read, write, or count. It. Doesn’t. Matter. And if they end up only speaking one language that’s. Perfectly. Fine.

Eternal Childhood

A daycare opened in Montreal last month. $80 a day, $120 a day on weekends.  Play mats, games, drawings, kids’ favorite foods, group play. Nothing special, except for the fact that it’s for adults, and in particular, for corporate employees who want to feel like kids again and improve their team-building skills. 

No, really.

Not surprisingly, the adult daycare was created by a Ukrainian woman (i.e. massive childhood traumas). The perfect graduation gift for those few who do age out of this daycare eventually must be one of those books on “adulting.” 

It’s like you live your life blissfully unaware of how much crazy is out there. But hey, what do I know? I was too mature for daycare even at the age of 5. I was all like, “No, I don’t want to do nyam-nyam or go sleepy-bye. I want to sit here and read my Goethe in peace, thank you very much.” I fully anticipate being tortured with play mats and kiddie foods in hell. But clearly, one person’s hell is another’s $80-a-day relaxing hobby.

Addendum to Fatbergs

Another thing I don’t get from the previous link is why people throw baby wipes into the toilet. I’m not speaking on the moralistic grounds but strictly in practical terms. 

A toilet is pretty much the most uncomfortable place to change a baby. Even a garage is better for the purpose. How do people end up next to commodes with babies needing a change? Or do they walk to the toilet clutching a soiled baby wipes after a change? And what does the baby do in the meanwhile? Just stay on the changing table waiting? That’s one strange baby. 

Or do folks need baby wipes for themselves because they get hemorroides after guzzling all that greasy food?

It’s like I discovered an alternative universe where people live in a way that’s  radically different than mine.

Solution to Fatbergs 

Reader TomW says fatbergs are a result of cooking bacon. Just in case there are folks who don’t know, here’s a way to cook bacon without ending up with a cup of grease. 

Layer 3-4 paper towels on a plate. Put your strips of bacon on them.

Layer 3-4 paper towels on top. Press the whole thing down non-agressively.

Stick the plate in the microwave and cook on high until desired crispness. About 7 minutes, as I remember. 

All the grease will go into the paper towels.

I’ll never eat bacon again but I’m happy for those who can.