A couple weeks ago we rented “The Wizard of Oz,” for Princess Zurg’s sake.  (Where her interest in witchcraft intersects with her interest in tornadoes.)  It was a heck of a lot cheesier than I remembered, but the kids loved it.  In fact, Bubby’s been singing “If I Only Had a Brain” non-stop since then, and thus so have I.Since the missionaries aren’t coming for dinner tonight, we were going to take a break from our usual pork ‘n chocolate ways and have pasta with cilantro hot pepper pesto.  So I was toasting pine nuts and trying very hard not to snack on them because pine nuts ain’t for snackin’, pine nuts is money–and Elvis was screaming his head off and I had to do something that wasn’t toasting pine nuts, like turn on the VCR or get cilantro out of the fridge, and I totally forgot that I was toasting pine nuts until the pine nuts were toast.  Now when I wasn’t medicated, I might have said all kinds of bad words when this happened, but since I am medicated, I only said the same bad word over and over.  So now I don’t know what we’re eating for dinner because I wasn’t in the mood to cook in the first place because Sugar Daddy told me he’d be home late, and I don’t like toasting pine nuts for just me and the kids, but then he called at the last minute and said he’d be home in time for dinner, so there it is.  It’s his fault.  Isn’t that what I just said?I need some of that ginkgo biloba or whatever it is because my mind is like a sieve.  This morning I had to drive Princess Zurg to school because the kindergarten was taking a field trip.  Let’s just say the bus has spoiled me.  It’s been over three months since I’ve had to load all three kids in the car and drive five minutes to school and get there on time, and I was definitely out of practice.  So I was running late, and naturally, Bubby couldn’t find his Spider Man sandals, which I thought were in the car, but when I was putting everyone in car seats I found Spidey sandals were not in the car, so I ran into the house to find the footwear whose exact location I knew, but once I was inside the house, I just found myself screaming, “Why am I here?  Why am I here?”  It was not a philosophical question, but perhaps it should have been.