The last cinnamon roll. So lonely. So dejected. The rest were gobbled up so quickly he never had a chance to say goodbye. After casually reading (in an addict's gotta-get-a-fix kind of way) the pioneer woman's website, I decided to try one of her recipes and chose the cinnamon rolls.

Man-oh-man there aren't even words.

Yes there are, but you have to sing them because I have been all day in between mouthfuls.

Truly scrumptious, you're truly truly scrumptious. Scrumptious as a cherry peach parfait....

That last one isn't gonna know what hit him tomorrow morning.

The kids danced to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat tonight. I'd like to thank Mr. Costello, my eighth grade social studies teacher for helping us memorize the entire score to this musical rather than teaching us geography. And thank you Sue for graciously giving me a copy of the soundtrack. While I do long to know the capitals of our fine country, (heck, even the states) I'll never forget the lyrics to that production.

It's nice to know that if we were ever to have a reunion, we could just break into song during those awkward silences when you're trying to get reacquainted with someone.

(I'm being sarcastic only about wanting to learn the capitals. not about Mr. Costello's teaching choices. He was an inspirational teacher who I'll never forget.)