Did the Dish Run Away With the Spoon?

(what a horrible picture. just so you know, we have hung the pictures and picked up the towel that is on the floor.)

The other day, I had an awakening of sorts. As you can see, I have a bookshelf in my apartment, full to the point of bursting with books I have read, or hope to read in the near future. I wish I could say that I have read them all, but I am just being honest-I have not! Nonetheless, I realized the other night after a relief society activity that I probably ought to spend more time browsing this bookshelf, and less time browsing this.*

Now, I will explain.

We had a baby shower for our monthly activity and we collected items to donate to a charity that helps people that can't afford baby stuff, etc. . . At the activity, we played a couple of shower games. The first game we played was "Match the celebrity babies with the correct celebrity parent." Sweet! Not to boast, really, no boasting, but I got every single one right, then in turn was able to help the RS president fill in her answers. I am a gracious game player (most of the time) and will help my opponents when I can. I was feeling pretty good, my friends, until the next game was introduced. And this is where I had my not-so-rude awakening.

"Name the Nursery Rhyme"-enough said. There were 20 or so lines from nursery rhymes and we had to fill in the title of it. I don't think I got more than five correct. The entire time I kept thinking "my poor son. He is going to grow up quoting articles from People and InStyle magazine, and not so much "Little boy blue come blow your horn." (If that is even how it goes).

The worst part of this whole story is that my mother gave me a wonderful gift about a year ago. She gave me this book. It is such a great reference to have, who knows when I will need to quote a nursery rhyme or two. In fact a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine asked me "what are little girls made of?" And I thought and thought and was completely stumped, when a kind woman walked by and sort of whispered "sugar and spice and everything nice." I felt like a moron! I know what little boys are made of, but girls-I guess I need to refresh my memory a little.
Needless to say, I am setting a goal for myself-I am going to try and limit my people.com browsing, and spend less money on the smut magazine (as Mike calls it) that comes out on a weekly basis. Not saying I will stop completely because, let's face it, we all have guilty pleasures, but I am going to try and not let this one consume my life. I have more important things to worry about, like if the cows are in the meadow and the sheep are in the corn (or is it the other way around. . .)?

*Side note, I didn't even look at the headlines on the wonderful webpage I put up before I posted it to my blog, and I just took a look. It is a sad, sad world we live in when the top story is the coverage of the fact that a beautiful actress is breaking up (and I say breaking up, because they aren't married) with the father of her illegitimate child. Why do we care? But we do, and the headlines will never cease.

Do you have a favorite nursery rhyme?