Wanda Says…My worst nightmare!

It rained spiders in Australia.

Did you hear me?

It fucking rained spiders in Australia!

http://www.nbcnews.com/science/weird-science/pouring-down-arachnids-australias-spider-rain-explained-n361006?cid=sm_fb

The end is near.

 

This is what I imagine Hell would be like.  Thousands of spiders falling from the sky!  Every cell in my body is jumping around and screaming in agony at the thought.

I hate spiders.  I’ve physically shuddered, my shoulders twitching, the hair on my arms standing up and chills racing up and down my spine, like ten times since I started typing this post.  I keep imagining that something is crawling on me.

Just….NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

No shower of spiders, “ballooning” from the sky, covering my house in threads of silk so dense it looks like cotton.  This sounds more like the plot line of a new horror movie, not a true scientific event that’s easily explained by arachnid migration patterns. This is seriously on par with a zombie apocalypse for me.  I would never leave the house again for fear of one of them dangling from the rooftop waiting to touch me.  Or worse, how could I not run from the house for fear that they would invade the openings or crevices of my home and work their way inside to crawl on me in my sleep!  I saw the movie Arachnophobia, and I didn’t sleep for weeks.

One time, I noticed this horrible, disgusting, hairy spider clinging to the side mirror on my car as I was driving to work.  I almost had to set fire to the car to get rid of that fucking spider!

I just threw up in my mouth a little looking at this picture. Thank God this isn’t a picture of my car. I borrowed this from Google.

I wish I didn’t know this.  I wish I could somehow make my brain un-know it.  I can never un-see this.  I may never be able to travel to Australia now, and I’ve always wanted to go there.  Australia is tainted for me now.

Spiders ruin everything.

 

Wanda Says…You Won’t Like Me When I’m Angry.

It takes a lot to make me angry.

A few things have happened that have triggered my protective instincts and my anger and frustration has peaked in a way that might be a little unhealthy.

I want to scream.  I want to throw shit, yell at people and make my displeasure known.  I want to write a long blog post about why I’m angry and why I am completely justified in feeling this way.

But I can’t.  I can’t be immature about this and vent the circumstances of my anger to the world.  I can’t shake the shit out of people and make them make better choices.

So, instead of a full-blown rant full of profanity and finger pointing, I offer you The Hulk.

Word.

Word.

 

Wanda Says…Random Thoughts, Fancy Cars, Play-Doh and TMI.

cleaning ladyMy house is a bit of a mess and I keep waiting for someone else in this family to take some initiative and clean it.  Then I remind myself that everyone else is waiting for me to do it because as a stay home mom, that’s my job.  I’m looking at the floors and thinking I need a raise.  Or a glass of wine while I contemplate when I may feel like getting around to some housework.

I’m tired all the time.  I thought once I started working out a lot that I would have all this boundless energy.  All I have is sore muscles, some new muscles,  and constant cravings for caffeine and meat.

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Every Tuesday and Thursday when I go to the gym, there’s a black, Rolls Royce Wraith in the parking lot.  Seriously.  A freaking Rolls Royce!  Every week I see this car and I think…Really?  Because that’s your casual car?

Bryce has been begging me all day to play with his play-doh.  I hate play-doh.  It took forever to clean up the mess he made yesterday with his play-doh, and I just want it to disappear.  He likes to take several different colors, squish them all together and then shape it into a puddle.  Then he brings it to me and says, “Here’s another pool of vomit, mommy!”  He makes these “pools of vomit” and then expects me to save it and display it on the fireplace mantel.  He gets upset when I try to secretly throw them away.  He notices when they disappear from the mantel.  He doesn’t believe me anymore when I tell him I’m saving them in a special, secret location.  Did I mention that I hate play-doh?

My husband had to fly to Oakland today for a meeting with one of his clients.  He’s in the e-commerce business and he works with a variety of online retailers.   This particular client happens to be a company that makes products exclusively for adults.  *Ahem*  To be more specific, they sell sex toys.  Apparently, during the meeting, the company gave out goodie bags to all the executives.  He texted me a picture of the bag and said, “I can’t wait to go through TSA at the airport.”  He won’t tell me what’s in the bag.  He says it’s a surprise.  I don’t actually care about what’s in the gift bag, but I would give almost anything to watch him go through airport security with that bag.  It was a day trip so he didn’t take luggage with him.  It should make him feel better that everyone from his company got a gift bag, so they all have to go through airport security together, with sex toys in their possession.  (I’m crying laughing just thinking about it!)

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Because I won’t put up a picture of a sex toy, its funny, and topically, it’s somewhat relevant.

Have a great weekend!  😉

Wanda Says…The Versatile Blogging Award!

versatile-blogger-award-5[1]Most of you know that I LOVE blog awards!

So, I’m very flattered and happy to accept the nomination for the Versatile Blogger Award from two of my fellow bloggers.

The first nomination for this award was given to me by Tastehitch.  Andy’s blog is brilliant, and he happens to be the author of Being A Dad Is BrilliantHe writes a lot about fatherhood and parenting…you know, the glamorous life.  Check him out, or better yet, buy his book, and I promise you will not be disappointed!

The second nomination was given to me by Rob over at the V-Pub.  V-Pub is short for Virtual Pub, and Rob’s blog has a little bit of something for everyone.  He blogs about music, life and the occasional (or frequent) embarrassments that make the best happy hour stories.  Go check him out!

Thank you, to both Andy and Rob for the nominations!

Here is a list of rules to accept this award:

Show the award on your blog.

Thank the person who nominated you.

Share seven facts about yourself.

Nominate 15 blogs.

Link your nominees’ blogs, and let them know.

Seven Facts About Me:

1.  I’m a HUGE Star Wars fan.  I grew up wanting to be Princess Leia.  Soooo, one of the most memorable moments of my life happened like this…..I was sitting in an aisle seat at the Coliseum, watching a USC football game with my husband.  Dan is a Trojan.  George Lucas was at the game as alumni and to promote his latest film project.  As he was exiting the stadium, George Lucas walked right past me.  That man was five feet away from me, and for about ten seconds, as I watched him approach, I swear everything went into slow motion and I heard the Star Wars theme song in my head.  It was epic, and I will never forget it.  (And yes, his hair is incredible!)

wandtattoo-0465-388[1]2.  I’ve mentioned this before in my very first Wanda post ever, but I have a strict policy of only naming my pets after historical figures or literary characters.  Since my teen years I’ve had beloved pets who bore the names of Napoleon, Ulysses (S. Grant), Thor (Norse mythology’s god of thunder), Cain (biblical son of Adam & Eve), Psyche (Greek mythology’s goddess of the soul and wife of Eros), Scout (To Kill a Mockingbird), and Oliver (Oliver Twist).  Currently, my two cats are named Lucy and Linus, from of course, The Peanuts Gang.

3. There are a handful of movies that I am unable to pass over if I come across them on television.  They become a mandatory time suck and I am helpless to change the channel or be productive in any way until the movie is over.  Some of these movies include Stand By Me, The Goonies, Rocky, The Breakfast Club, Alien (and any of the sequels in this franchise), Star Wars, and any Tom Hanks movie, ever made.  I’m a huge Tom Hanks fan.  That’s a lot of time sucking.

Goonies Never Say Die!

Goonies Never Say Die!

4.  I can sing.  Or, I’ve been told that I can sing by others, but I choose not to sing in front of anyone other than my kids and our pets.  I get embarrassed and self-conscious and that just doesn’t feel good.  My husband says that if I wasn’t so self-conscious I could be a karaoke super star.  Isn’t that sweet?  Also, the only instrument I can play is an air guitar.  I totally rock that shit.  Particularly when playing anything AC/DC.

5. I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Special Education and I spent twenty years of my career prior to becoming a stay home parent working with children and adults with special needs.  Over the course of those twenty years I’ve had jobs ranging from providing direct care, managing group homes, providing advocacy services, licensing and program coordination, to being an assistant director of a private family services agency.  I’ve cared for individuals with special needs in every capacity imaginable, and it is not work that just anybody can do.  I’m very proud of the people I was able to help over the course of my career, and I have days where I miss it terribly.

6.  One of my biggest regrets so far in life is not going back to school to pursue a Master’s Degree.  At this point in my life, it may still be an option, but since I feel I’ve moved on from my previous career and would like to embark on something new, I have no idea what I would go back to school for.  I’m still trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up.  Any suggestions?

chocolate chip cookies7.  I’m a good baker. I make a mean chocolate chip cookie.  Ask anyone who knows me.  I used to make cookies for my friend’s as their birthday presents, and they were thrilled to get them as their annual gift.  At one point my husband suggested I open a bakery business based on his love of my chocolate chip cookies.  No, I won’t share the recipe.  I spent about five years tweaking the recipe to get it juuuuuust right.  If I ever do open a bakery, I’ll call it “You’re Not the Boss of Me Bakery.”  Yeah, that name suits me well.

Now, I would like to nominate a few blogs in order to pass on the honor of this award. I know it says I have to nominate fifteen blogs, but I won’t just nominate for the sake of meeting a number requirement.  The blogs I nominate are…

1.  Carrie On, Y’all  (Carrie is hilarious!  I’ve actually snorted a beverage out of my nose while reading her blog.  She’s that good!)

2.  Kimboxin  (Kim is totally badass, and I love her writing and her perspective on life.  Her blog is honest, funny, and I find myself scrolling her blog to make sure I don’t miss anything she writes.)

3.  Peaches & Poppycock  (Kristin’s blog is funny, full of southern charm (she says y’all a lot) and she enjoys wine flavored ice cream!  How cool is that?!)

4.  The UnsimpleLife (Ray’s blog is amazing, but he’s currently not posting new material right now due to some recent life changes.  However, you should head over and read some of his stuff because he’s funny and insightful.)

5.  Floordeboor  (I love this blog because the brilliant woman behind it is sharing her personal journey with health and wellness.  She’s smart, gives good, solid advice and shares her recipes and tips for weight loss, workouts and just living healthy.  Check her out!)

If any of the blogs I nominated choose not to participate, it’s totally cool.  And perhaps you will enjoy some new traffic and followers based on the good things I said about you!

Have a great weekend, everyone, and thanks again for the award!

Wanda Says…Great Laughs, Great Friends and Good Times in Charleston.

 

Every year I take a girls only trip with three of my great friends from high school.  This tradition actually began when we were seniors in high school and we drove from Michigan to Florida for the week of Spring Break.

It was a big deal.

Everyone at our small school had their knickers in a twist over four seventeen/eighteen year old girls daring to drive fifteen hours to the heathen state of Florida for some fun in the sun.  We survived, had an amazing time, and made it home without one traffic ticket or incident of indecent exposure.

And we did it all without the aid of cell phones, GPS, or online internet maps.  We used real maps.  You know, the ones kids today don’t know how to read.  We called our parents to check in from pay phones.  And no one died because they weren’t able to reach us every second of the day.

We were totally independent, smart, capable, badass teenagers.

Fast forward twelve years of being sidetracked with college, jobs, boyfriends who became husbands, raising children, and some husbands becoming ex-husbands, we resumed our tradition of the annual girls trip.  Except now we fly instead of drive because we have more money and we’re scattered across the country.  We’ve been doing it now for about ten years, give or take a year off for unexpected complications.

This year we congregated in Charleston, South Carolina.

My travel itinerary wasn’t fun since I was basically traversing the country as far as possible from the west coast to the east coast, but once I got there I was completely charmed.  This was my very first trip to Charleston and I have to tell you, I was not disappointed.  It’s a fabulous city!

We stayed in the historic district and walked everywhere.  We took a carriage Red Brick and Stuccoride through the city and our guide detailed everything from minute details of residential architecture to churches and buildings of historic significance.  We shopped in the open market on Market St. and I bought Sweet Grass Baskets for my children as souvenirs.  We walked the waterfront to Battery Park, which has some of the most beautiful trees I have ever seen.  We toured Rainbow Row and marveled over the charm of flowered window baskets, burning gas lamps, and real wooden shutters that add an undeniable ambiance to the already weighty, historic feel of the city.

And the restaurants in Charleston are amazing!

I fell in love with the houses of Charleston!

I fell in love with the houses of Charleston!

One of my favorite restaurants was called Poogan’s Porch and they serve gourmet southern cuisine.  The food was fantastic and the service was incredible.  If you go to Charleston, plan to eat there, but make a reservation in advance or you won’t get a table.  I had the beef fillet with blue cheese dumplings, and it was to die for!

The other place I would highly recommend is called Kaminsky’s, and it’s a dessert bar.  It’s a bar that only serves alcohol and dessert.

Genius!

The line to get into this place was staggering.  Thankfully, we had stopped in there for hot drinks one afternoon when they weren’t busy and got to know one of the bartenders.  It was raining outside and we wanted to warm up with some spiked coffee.  The next evening we decided to go back to try their dessert menu as well, but there was a mob of people waiting outside to get in.   It would have been over an hour wait, but our dear new friend, the bartender, was able to snag us some seats at the bar and took excellent care of our dessert and cocktail needs for the rest of the evening.  The place is fun, charming and has some of the best dessert Martini’s, ever.  And I don’t like Martini’s, so that should tell you something.

Oak Trees in Battery Park

Oak Trees in Battery Park

Now, two of us, myself included, already had established alter egos.  I am, of course, Wanda.  One of the other girls is known as Belinda, but only when she drinks.  Not wanting to leave the other two girls without a fun, alter ego to enjoy the weekend, Jasmine and Piper were born out of much alcohol consumption and consideration of naming preferences.  I shall refer to my friends by their alternative names out of consideration of their privacy, and well, just because it’s more fun.

Jasmine received a chiropractic adjustment to her back, shoulders and neck by a local homeless man named Byron.  I’m not kidding.  We were walking down the street and observed this man cracking another man’s back while standing on the sidewalk.  Jasmine yells out, “I need some of that!”  Byron then crossed the street and began to work his magic.  I was shocked.  I was waiting for him to feel her up.  He was standing behind her with his arms across her chest, working her arms, back and neck.  At one point he said to her, “Lean back and put your head on my shoulder.  Trust me.”  And Jasmine said, “But I just met you.”  It took every ounce of self-control I had not to piss my pants right there because I was laughing so hard.  Jasmine decided to trust Byron, and he proceeded to give her, as she claims, one of the best back adjustments she’s ever received.  The look on her face was orgasmic.  She tipped him ten dollars.  He rode past us on his bike a few minutes later and shouted out, “You’ve been Byronized!”  Yes.  Yes she had.  (We found out later from our friendly bartender friend that Byron is a bit of a local celebrity, and every one knows him, loves him and he provides back cracking and adjustments free to anyone who needs them).

I love this house!

I love this house!

Belinda was good this year.  She managed her alcohol intake well and there were no incidents of ‘Girls Gone Wild’ this year.  We were really proud of her.

Piper just had a baby last year and is still breastfeeding.  It became fun for all of us to mimic the sound of the breast pump which occasionally made her boobs tingle trying to release the milk.  And we were treated to a special visit by her eight month old baby girl.  Piper’s husband drove down with the baby so she could meet her Auntie’s and enjoy an afternoon with us.  They live a couple of hours north of Charleston.  I’m not kidding when I say she is one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen.  I gave her a pink bear, which we named Flo, and she loved her, which means, by extension, she loves me.  So that means I’m the favorite Aunt.  Just sayin’.

Waterfront Mansion

Waterfront Mansion

As for myself, well, I had a Ross Geller moment while at dinner on Saturday night.  I wore skinny jeans that night.  I never wear skinny jeans because I find them to be tight and uncomfortable.  But, to shake things up a bit, I wore skinny jeans to dinner.  We walked to the restaurant which was about a mile away from our hotel.  It was warm outside and I was sweating slightly by the time we got there.  Do you remember that episode from Friends where Ross wears leather pants on his date?  And he goes into the bathroom of his date’s house to air out his pants because his thighs are so sweaty?  And then he can’t get his leather pants back up and uses baby powder to absorb the moisture on his legs, but the powder mixes with his sweat to form a paste?  Yeah, well, my incident was sort of like that but without the baby powder.  Skinny jeans don’t like to be pulled up or down sweaty legs.  I went to use the restroom when we got to the restaurant and got stuck in the bathroom for a while trying to get my stupid ass skinny jeans back up my sweaty legs.  Never again.

In short, we had a great weekend.  Great laughs, great friends and good times!

PS–We are considering options for next year’s girls trip, so if any of you have a suggestion for a destination in the US, I would love to hear it.  🙂

Wanda Says…On the Subject of Toddler Memory and Childbirth.

mother and childMy son Bryce gets physical therapy for a slight gross-motor delay.  During one of our sessions with his PT, she asked if my kids ever talked about their early childhood memories.  My daughter has a really good memory and she can recall things from her toddler years that surprise me.  I’ve never really thought about it with Bryce, but once I did, I was surprised to realize that Bryce can also recall various events from as much as two years ago, and he’s only four.

Anyway, our PT went on to explain that she has a colleague who’s interested in early childhood memory, and had recently read about a study that showed evidence that some toddlers, if questioned before the age of three, could recall events from their birth experience.  (Keep in mind we weren’t having a scientific discussion here.  It was more sharing this cool story about kids who can accurately recall memories from their birth, which I thought was pretty amazing).

So, PT told me that one night she decided to ask her own two year old daughter, just to see what she would say.  As she was putting her to bed, she asked the child if she remembered anything about being born.  She said that her daughter got very quiet, and then responded by saying that her arm hurt, and she cradled her arm to her chest.  PT then told me that when her daughter was born, her arm had been in a difficult position, which made the birth a bit complicated.  Her baby’s arm was wedged up and pinned, and the result was a rather large and colorful bruise on her arm for over a week after the birth.

Holy shit!  For a two year old to recall her arm hurting and gesture that seems pretty amazing to me.

I guess the idea behind the theory is that toddlers are like free-thinking sponges, and their brains aren’t bogged down by preconceptions of what they’re supposed to know and not know.  They don’t know how to second-guess themselves, so their reactions and recollections are genuine and open.  There are many studies that prove that learning begins in the womb, and what prevents babies and toddlers from expressing these memories is a simple lack of developed communication skills.  I did an internet search for toddler memory studies and there were all kinds of cool things that popped up, but I was unable to locate the specific study on toddler memory of childbirth.

But I decided to ask my son Bryce and see what he had to say.  Bryce is four, so I knew it might be too late for him to remember anything, but I asked him anyway.

We were snuggling together, just the two of us.  It was quiet and I had his full attention. He was sitting on my lap and playing with my hair.

Me:  Bryce, do you remember when you were born?

Bryce:  Yep.  (There was no hesitation in his answer).

Me:  What do you remember?

Bryce:  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

(OMG!  Does he remember the counting through the contractions?  For those of you who are unfamiliar with this process, the nurses will usually count to ten while you are pushing through a contraction).

Me:  Wow.  Do you remember anything else?

Bryce:  Yep.  I remember shapes………..and power.

(Could the “power” be the contractions?).

Me:  What kind of shapes?

Bryce:  Circles and ovals.

(Does he mean the overhead lights in the birthing suite or bassinet?  There were warming lights over the newborn bassinet and over the bed).

Me:  That’s pretty cool, buddy.

Bryce.  Yep.  It was cool.

So, I have no idea if these were true memories or just something he decided to say, but I think the concept of toddlers remembering their birth experience is pretty awesome.

What do you think?

Wanda Says…On My Son’s Opinion of Green Poop.

shamrockParenting children is so glamorous. If I’m not pulling teeth, wiping bums, or determining the source of crusty residue left on various surfaces, then I’m a scientist/medical doctor in training attempting to help my children decipher their bodily functions and the source of any problems that arise.

I apologize for the gross topic of this post, but I had this conversation with my four year old son this morning, and for a lack of anything more interesting to write about, decided to share the poop story love with all of you.

You’re welcome, world.

This morning I heard Bryce muttering to himself in the bathroom.

Bryce:  Why is my poop green?  What makes green poop?

Me:  Is something wrong?  Do you need help?

Bryce:  Yes.  My poop is green mommy.

(I joined him in the bathroom, and yes, his poop was a shamrock green color.  WTH?)

Bryce:  Why?

Me:  I don’t know, buddy.  Maybe it has something to do with the blue icing you ate last night on the cake.  But it will be ok.  Poop changes color sometimes based on what you eat.

Bryce:  So the blue icing and the chocolate cake made green poop?!

Me:  I’m not sure.

red velvet cupakeBryce:  What does red and green make?

Me:  Probably a brownish-gray color.  Why?

Bryce:  Well, then to turn my poop brown again, I need to eat some Red Velvet cake!  Can you get some of that for me, because we need to fix this!

LOL!  Little boy problems are so fun.  I heard him talking to himself a while later saying, “I never should have eaten that chocolate cake!”   😉

 

Update:  About two hours after I posted this, my family and I were shopping at the local mall, picking up some clothes for the kids.  In the middle of the girls department at Macy’s, I look over and Bryce has his pants down around his ankles, his underwear around his knees, bare-ass, inspecting the inside of his underwear!  He was so worried about the green poop, he said, with big fat tears in his eyes and a sad look on his face, “I had to make sure the green poop didn’t get into my underwear.”   We left the store and got him a Red Velvet cupcake just to ease his worries.  🙂

Wanda Says…I can do anything for a count of ten!

I’ve got good news and bad news.

The good news is that in my attempt to increase my levels of physical fitness, I walked over 12,000 steps yesterday.  The bad news is that I’m pretty sure my knees and ankles are now plotting to murder me in my sleep.

I’ve been plugging along with my diet and exercise routine with somewhat slow but still fairly decent results.  The first week with my trainer I gained two pounds which she assured me was normal.  Then I lost the two pounds and gained them back when my bestie came into town for the weekend.  Apparently drinking gallons of wine and eating out two meals a day is not exactly healthy or good for my diet.  Whatever.

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Even though I’m not shedding pounds quickly, and I accept the fact that this is my fault and directly related to my weekend activities, I am getting stronger.   I can feel it in my arms and legs.  And I notice the difference in what I can do in my workouts.

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My trainer, Carrie, is amazing.  I actually look forward to working out with her.  Can you believe that?  I look forward to an hour of physical punishment twice a week.  I describe it as punishment because after the workout I feel like I need to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day.  The other day I came home from the gym and went into my son’s room to play with him.  I laid down on his bed and passed out for over an hour.  I slept in his bed in the middle of the day while he played around me.  That one hour with Carrie is so exhausting, and my whole body has been continuously sore for weeks.  My armpits are even sore.  I actually feel like someone punched me in the armpit, repeatedly.  Who knew that was possible?  But during the workout I don’t feel exhausted.  I just feel strong and curious to see what I can do.  I never watch the clock, either.  When I workout with her I never feel like I have to check and see how much time is left before I can be done.

exercise-would-be-so-much-more-rewarding-if-calories-screamed-in-agony-as-you-burned-them-f568c[1]Prior to our workout, I do a quick warm up on the treadmill in a small, woman’s only section of the gym.  This room has mirrors on every wall, so while I’m on the treadmill I can see my body from every angle.  This has proved to be very motivating for me.  By the time I’m done with that warm up and join Carrie in the larger section of the gym I am mentally prepared for her to put me through my paces.  Seeing my body from every angle while I walk on that treadmill reinforces why I’m there.  I told Carrie about this and then said to her, “I don’t care what you ask me to do as long as you help me get rid of my second ass.  I only need one, and this bitch has been free-loading on my backside for long enough.”

She also pushes me in ways that I would never think to push myself.  I’ve learned to not even look at the amount of weight she hands me.  My first workout I thought she was crazy when she handed me ten pound dumbbells.  Now, I just trust that she knows what she’s doing and she wouldn’t give it to me if she thought I couldn’t really do it.  It is hard.  I have to fight through the exercises and I’ve learned what people mean when they talk about the mental aspect of pushing through physical barriers.  I mentally chant to myself during difficult exercises, which is almost every exercise she asks me to do.  I quietly tell myself, over and over, “I can do anything for a count of ten.”  Of course, it’s actually three sets of ten, but in that moment I just need to get through ten.   I focus on that and it helps me to wrap my head around what I am pushing my body to do.

My first week I could only plank for twenty seconds.  My whole body vibrates with the effort necessary to hold the position.  At week four I can do fifty seconds.  I hate that fifty seconds.  Carries says, “Close your eyes, breathe and go to your happy place.”  Instead, I close my eyes and repeatedly think, “I can do anything for fifty seconds.”

And I can.