!

In regards to well known literature of my anglo-heritage, I've always had a soft spot for the 'monster' stories. You know: dracula, frankenstein, the hunchbacks, the homicidal dwarf men. There's something really intriguing about them. A realization occurred to me a few years back: I didn't really know any of those stories from their origins. Now, I love Twilight as much as the next person, but how much appreciation can a person have for poor Edward's plight if said person has never read Bram Stoker? Am I right? Of course I'm right.

Okay, but here's the thing. I am, as I have for the last little while, approaching the end of said author's 'Dracula'. Very fun read. If not a bit on the over-romantic/flowery/totally-goth novel. But, I can appreciate that. The thing that is kinda getting on my nerves at page 338 of 364 pages? Is that Van Helsing has not, in all those pages, yet learned how to speak English without sounding like a case study. I just can't reconcile the way he words things like a semi-literate completely superstitious old man and Hugh Jackman's face.

Now, someone explain that brilliant piece of casting for me.

But, I'll move on from fictional discrepancies to tell you the all-important news of Ben's newest discoveries.

Number 1) heights. As in, climbing to the tops of them. Almost entirely restricted to Cole's top bunk. I started noticing a day or two ago that Ben was disappearing for whole minutes at a time. Let me bring you up to speed on Ben and disappearing: not like him. He's more of a cling to your leg sort of kid. Which, as my #4, I don't mind as much. Especially when my 6 year old won't let me give him kisses (although we've worked out a compromise which will allow for the nightly 'sleep well' hug). But, back to Ben sitting on the top bunk. By himself. Over five feet in the air, sitting entirely too close to edge of said top bunk. I know it's over five feet because I have to actually climb up at least one step to even get my arms over the railing to try and lift him down. Once I got him down, he promptly ran away laughing, only to close himself into his own room, nestled close to his brother's CD player where he very happily played Bare Naked Ladies rendition of 'Jingle Bells' for the next 45 minutes. At a blasting volume. Has anyone else tried to make a bill payment on the phone with this in the background? The dang voice kept telling me it couldn't understand my answer before I had even answered.

Customer service my butt. When an actual person starts talking to me, that's when they can start calling it 'service' again. I'm old school that way.