Blog Fodder

I wasn't going to blog tonight, but I just couldn't resist. There's material everywhere, and it's a pity to let it go at the end of a day. Consider the back of a cracker box, which reads:

Entertaining Cracker Quartet Collection

Pepperidge Farm Entertaining Crackers turn an everyday occasion into something special. Their rich taste and crispy textures perfectly complement your favorite cheese, dip, or fresh topping. Have them on hand for when your family and friends stop by -- their attractive shapes and delicious flavors are always impressive. They're so tasty you can even enjoy them right out of the box.

Maybe it's that I've had some wine on a Saturday night with my husband next to me strumming seafaring shanties on the guitar, but I find this wildly entertaining, more so than the potential of the crackers themselves to "entertain." I wonder if I could get a job writing these epicurian sketches? If so, it might go something like this:

Confessions of a Cracker (A.K.A. Bad Cracker Poetry)

'Tis a pity to be so square
Or seem so one-dimensional;
I am much more than a palette for cheese
Or pâté or liverwurst.

Although I am relegated to reside in a box,
My origins are as varied as my textures,
From England comes the "English Water,"
Which, regrettably, some may admit, is kind of dry.

I am more than a cookie
Because I have salt,
I am a floured phoenix,
Rising from the silver tray upon which I am offered up
At a dinner party of fools.

Ah, the beauty (and mercy) of free verse. I was also going to blog about my haircut today at a way-too-hip salon that played (or blared, rather) "The Humpty Dance," as Jane, dressed in black, chopped my locks, but I am weary of this blog and must retire to the pillowtop until 'morrow.

The babe is dreaming and mom and dad must do the same.

Sorry, no pictures tonight...