In which butter is a mystery

I am sooo bummed.

My team lost.

Dammit.

The game was so exciting, there was yelling, dancing, and -up til the last oh, 50 seconds- big shit eating grins.

Ok, just one of those.

Mine.

Then disbelief.

Abject despair.

Queasy stomach from the adrenaline crash.

Baby learned some new curse words.

* Note to self-there is now a rather large girl shaped parrot in the house-tone down the cussing!*

I discovered this morning that I had shouted my throat raw.

I sound like I swallowed a bucket of gravel.

This morning Baby decided to make toast.

Here is her idea of toast:

Notice that the butter is in chunk format and not spread on the bread.

Just 2 tablespoons, maybe 3 of butter plopped on her "toast".

Which is not toasted.

She does not like her bread burned after all.

She made herself a couple of pieces of butter toast last night too.

Exactly like this one.

And now this is what my kitchen looks like:

Yep, you are looking at 4 sticks of butter.

Each one shy 2-3 tablespoons of being a full stick.

Hmm.

Why did she get a fresh stick of butter each time?

And what am I going to do with all that softened butter?

Oh well.

At least I have something else to think about.

I believe I shall have a nice cup of tea and ponder.

And maybe some toast.

Only mine will be burned.