Seemingly-Awesome-but-Actually-Sucky Item #1
I generally LOVE Burt's Bees stuff. I have a serious addiction to their chapstick that involves me having a tube stashed in no fewer than six places: in the bathroom vanity, in the bedside drawer, by my chair in the family room, in one of the rooms upstairs, in the car, and in my purse. I used to keep several in my classroom, too. I should probably buy stock. Until recently, I trusted Burt's Bees unquestioningly, even if they did sell out and become just another brand owned by Johnson & Johnson. So when I saw that they make a belly balm for the preggo crowd, I was, of course, thrilled. It even had an adorable name:
Why yes, I thought, I would like to be a stretch-mark free "Mama Bee"! My belly must have the pumkin seed oil and olive oil!" So I took it home, popped off the lid, and dug my fingers into.......something that reminded me of crumbly Vaseline. It's so greasy that I have to soap and scrub my hands two or three times before I can touch anything. And, "Frangrance-Free"?!!! Not so much. Every time I open the tin, I feel like I have been transported back to the Wild West, where a Native American medicine woman has just handed me her special concoction of bear fat mixed with a pinch of ground-up squirrel bones and a hint of burnt buffalo droppings. So throw it away, you whiner, I'm sure you are thinking. Well, I can't. I paid TEN $%^# dollars for this little tin, so on my belly it goes EVERY. DAY. Let's just be thankful the baby can't detect outside smells, or I'd probably be in for a lot more kicking. Because it sure makes ME want to kick someone.
Seemingly-Awesome-but-Actually-Sucky Item #2
On Christmas Day, Jeromy and my parents and I went out for a nice holiday dinner in Colorado Springs. It was one of those restaurants that has, in the very front of their menu, a long wine list and a selection of fancy cocktails with clever names. I started reading through the cocktails descriptions, just to torture myself. Somewhere between the Mountain Mint Lemonade and the Passion Fruit Cooler, I think I silently cried a little bit. But then, at the VERY bottom....a MOCKTAIL! It was supposed to be like a cosmopolitan without the
But instead I got this:
|I'll have the kiddie-cocktail, please. Hold the sippy-cup.|
It was basically $5 cranberry juice over ice in a plain old water glass, without so much as a lime garnish. Mocktail fail. The worst part was that my mom ordered the same drink with alcohol, and SHE got the chilled martini glass. I tried to give my best pouty pregnant-lady puppy-dog eyes to the waitress, but I'm pretty sure she didn't notice. The restaurant did redeem themselves with dessert, however: poached pear in blackcurrent syrup with sour cream ice cream...Merry Christmas to me! (And my blood sugar).