Product reviews.

1.

I would like to hate the IRS. Tax forms are entirely ridiculous, and the IRS likes to send us very formal-looking letters at random times during the year, which spikes my blood pressure every time. Plus, last year we had a bit of a fiasco which involved me faxing the IRS our already-submitted tax forms various times and them telling us that they couldn't verify that they'd received any fax for at least six weeks. Um, okay, guys. Good thing you requested that fax, then, eh.

However. Both this year and last year, the IRS has increased our expected tax returns by about a thousand bucks. As in, we say, "Our tax return should be x." And they say, "Good job with all your excessive humanities degrees," and then deposit a wad of cash into our account totaling x + 1,000.

And it's kind of hard not to like someone who gives you a thousand unexpected bucks. You know? So, ultimately, I can be bought. And I have been. By the IRS.

2.

I cheaped out a while back and, instead of shelling out the extra fifty cents to get the toothpicks that are shaped like miniature spears, I bought the toothpicks that look like what's in the dustpan after sweeping the floor at a lumber yard. (Let's pretend that a lumber yard actually has a floor that isn't just dirt in the open air, shall we?) And today, I paid dearly for that fifty cents by getting a sliver in my lip.

Yes: a sliver in my lip.

I know I shouldn't have put the toothpick in my mouth, but I had a hot pad in one hand and I was opening the oven with the other, so I was making a deft bakery move that would've, ideally, simply told me that my mini lemon breads were done. Instead, I had to run upstairs with a shard of wood stuck in my lip to perform minor surgery.

Ultimately? Toothpicks that resemble weapons: good. Toothpicks that look like garbage: garbage. (Seems more intuitive now than it did at the store.)

3.

We have a habit of losing spoons, usually to the garbage disposal, and--it must be said--usually under Paul's direction of the garbage disposal. This isn't as tragic as it seems since all of our spoons are the ones I bought for college 14 years ago, so you can imagine the quality there isn't quite as high as it could be.

[Me, at Target, shopping for spoons at the tender age of 18: These ones look like they won't bend too easily in a carton of ice cream! I'll take them!]

Suffice it say, we needed more spoons for a while.

[The last one of the three of us to eat breakfast in the morning: Hey! I was going to eat cereal! Now I have to wash the spoon!]

This story, unlike the toothpick one, involves me choosing aesthetics at the store rather cheaping out. That's right: I paid $2 a spoon instead of paying $6 for a package of 4 spoons. And guess what? Every time I open the silverware drawer and see my cute spoons, I get excited to use one. And not just because it's clean.