I’ve been writing blog entries in my head (much to the delight of – em – the voices?). Perhaps, because, as a friend very diplomatically said to me, I’ve got too much time on my hands. Mind you, it’s only because I’ve been RESPONSIBLE and have been resting my lungs so that bronchio-spasms didn’t get out of control and that the consolidation would clear and the virus wouldn’t turn into some secondary infection. So, over a MONTH later, I find that I have briefly and tentatively left the house TWICE. (*Not counting a a couple days in Austin for the LIVESTRONG Challenge, but that’s a story for another time.)

It’s okay, I’m not complaining (at least not at the moment). I’m lucky it’s not worse; my oxygen saturation is always normal (even when I have secret pneumonia). It’s just that when you’ve got to stay relatively “quiet” and sometimes the meds make even gentle entertainment not very desirable, one has to assiduously work to control a brain, that I confess, runs on the edge.

So, all things considered, particularly at the moment, THE HORMONES… Oh – beg pardon – did I say, HORMONES????? Deal with it, squeamish ones. For such is life. FULL OF HORMONES!!! Bad ones, good ones, all sorts of HORMONES!!! Fine. Enough for now. hormones Okay, my most humble apologies – I shall set some things aside.

So we’ll hold off on mental illness, avulsion fractures (COOLEST NAME), crooked arms,@DeltaAssist reading and complimenting my blog (?), Mean Holidays and taking the “Challenge” out of the LIVESTRONG Challenge. And failed pies. I am putting all of those on the back shelf. Is that an expression? It SEEMS like it is an expression, so it must BE an expression, or it SHOULD be an expression.

Therefore, with no further ado, let’s talk about the important subject of THE BEST CHRISTMAS GIFT I’VE EVER SEEN ON THE COVER OF A CATALOG. It has been well established over the years that my mother receives pretty much every catalog imaginable. And I’ve written about some of the interesting consequences of this phenomenon.

Yet last week, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but THIS:

Does this Belly Bump make me look fat?

The only thing that could make it better is that these items, called “Belly Bumps,” are in the Museum Tour catalog. This catalog is chock-full of educational toys; there are categories for architecture, history, engineering, math, art and MONEY MANAGEMENT. This is the catalog that I saw Leif, who realizes he cannot receive every item on his extensive Christmas list, but who definitely wants “a couple of chemistry sets,” reading as though it were a secret, brand-new Harry Potter novel.

I could contend that I have a point. I MAY come up with one later (I may – don’t judge me). The truth at this moment is simply this: I want to run amok wearing a belly bump.