Two Heads Are Better Than One

There are times when I am mystified by the things I see/hear/smell in my household. I tell myself that it MUST be normal, par for the course of Motherhood, and that every mother most certainly opens the toilet seat and yells, "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" or wonders to herself, "Hmmmm, interesting that someone from the evolutionary branch of 'mankind' would think that it was a good idea to put ______ (insert odd noun) into the _______ (insert odder noun)?"

Most times I can I chalk up whatever peculiar discovery I uncover to being the lone Captain steering a Ship of Fools in often choppy seas, but it is always right about then that something even I find mystifying appears. Tonight as I prepared dinner, I browsed through this month's Martha Stewart Living magazine as I waited for the oven to preheat. I turned away from one counter and towards the other to grab a bag of Sun Chips (please note: they were bought only to be put in the kid's lunches and I was only reaching for them to read the nutritional label) and VIOLA!

There she was.

Some might be tempted to ask, "What happened to this poor doll?" Others, "Why two heads and only one nuked (as my kids call it) body?" Some others, "Who committed this awful crime?"

Not me.

I just figured that THIS is what happens to women when they peruse one too many Martha Stewart magazines drooling over the wide open, sparsely decorated, stainless steel shiny, obviously child-less, deep cherry cabinetry kitchens. They climb into a basket full of potato chips and behead themselves. Twice.