Let's Play A Game

For the sake of becoming a blog burn-out, I figged a spicy little questionnaire was in order.

The name of the game is:

"How Crunchy"

Answer best from the following Qs:

Am I...

a.) Crunchy enough to use cloth diapers on da children's buns with a side of homemade diaper solution and ghetto-serged wipes

b.) Crunchy enough to use a diva cup

c.) Crunchy enough to make plans for the chickens that will soon be roaming free with the children in the backyard

d.) Crunchy enough to give birth at home

e.) Crunchy enough to have a 2-year-old placenta hanging around the bottom of my freezer

f.) Crunchy enough to have a mild lust with the word organic and foods that are of the "whole" nature.

g.) Crunchy enough to combine all of the above to add a show-stopping amount of granola to your daily read

If you answered "g" you'd be correct. Even if secretly (or not so secretly) most of those things gross you.

Best part of it all, I bet you didn't even see it coming

...kind of like that time some old lady in church once said to me that I looked like a teenager (beehive status), too young to be married or have children. Or maybe like the time I felt the need to make small talky-type jokes while flashing the bling on my left ring finger to the lady at the Walgreens counter when I was buying a pregnancy test once.

I'm of the small-boned nature, I look younger than my age (troubled teen?), I get it.

But then BAM! out of nowhere I throw a- married, two kids, pregnant and scooping chicken poop out of the coop -at them.

21 Jump Street? Think about it.