Nutty Bars....and other Nonsense

We've found a new favorite.  My raccoon friend loves Nutty Bars and sweet potato fries.  The Nutty  Bars are most definitely his favorite though.  I asked my kids last night what we should name the raccoon.  My son says, "Name.............um.......Raccoon."  My daughter and I laugh and she says, "Maybe we should call him Jerry.  Wait, is it a boy?"  I tell her I'm not sure, but if we want it it to be a girl we can certainly call the coon Cherry instead.
So the baby squirrels?  There are more than 2 of them.  I usually just see 2 of them at once.  This morning there were at least 4 of them chasing each other out of the V in the tree.  Although one of them is braver than the rest, none of them will dare to venture more than 4 feet from the hole in the tree they all crawl out of.
Out and about yesterday I stopped at a restaurant with my son for lunch.  He wanted to use the men's restroom; becasue obviously urinals are awesome.  I let him go in and I sat outside on a bench to wait outside the door.  5 minutes later, listening to him sing while he goes, I'm still sitting and waiting.  I'm getting ready to ask him if everything is ok when I hear him shouting, "A little help here.   Mooooom!  A little help here!"  I peek into the bathroom and see him standing in front of me butt naked, pointing to his shirt that he has tossed into the air; it landed on a ledge on the wall and he can't reach it.  I get it down and give it to him.  He puts it on and continues, "A little help here.  I need to wash my hands."  I inform him that I am not allowed in the men's room, and that if he wants my help washing his hands he'll have to go into the girl's room with me.  After much explaining, I finally convince him; he's stubborn like his mother.
I was up late last night, chatting with a friend.  Up early this morning; and it's a beautiful day!  I'm sitting on the porch now thinking about how amazing a bike ride will be when I finish my coffee.  I'm thinking about this as I walk in to refill my coffee and Almond Joy creamer (my guilty pleasure).  Walking to the front door I see a trail of some liquid from the kitchen to the front door; splattered all over my freshly mopped floor.  Having kids often keeps me from having a clean house, but the coffee stains on the floor from the kitchen to the front door?  Those are mine.  It doesn't matter how often I mop them up, I can't seem to make the trip without spilling again.  In fact, I can't seem to be mobile with my coffee at all without spilling it.  Every time I wear a white dress and walk to my car, I'm wearing coffee on my front side before I ever arrive at my destination.  Ah well, the coffee can wait.  My bike is calling.....