A Brain is a Terrible Thing to Waste

I had an entire post planned today about life with Jumby and how mind trippingly amazing it is to be the mother to this marvelous little boy.

I was, in short, going to bust out the ole mommy for the mommy blog and pen an ode to parenthood and children with disabilities and how the world will one day be a miraculous place when my little Jumby takes his deserved crown and sits on his throne and reigns supreme as Global Overlord and World leader.

Then I was sidetracked. Apparently, I have the attention span of a two year old on crack. My sentimental train of thought crashed through the guard rails, dove off a cliff and exploded in a rather spectacular imaginary bang of fireworks and flames.

Apparently I may have watched way too many episodes of the original Knight Rider as a child.

With my loving and thoughtful post swirling the drain, I am forced to write about what initially caused the train to jump rails in the first place.

(And I'm not talking about the dirty direct messages and clever tweets my twitter friends use regularly in an effort to waste my life force and preempt any lame blog posts I may have planned.

They are a wily lot my tweeples.)

As I was drinking my coffee and crafting the words to make up my next parental ode, I clicked a link and then another (I think we may have established I am easily distracted) until I stumbled onto this:

Pork Brains: Grey Matter from the Other White meat

There are just no words.

All I can say is thank ALL THAT IS GOOD AND SPARKLY IN THE UNIVERSE that my father did not have access to this product as I grew up.

Spam never looked so good.

Even if my father did cut it up and put it in my mac and cheese.

Things can always get worse. It could have been processed brains.

(But oh, how I wish I could get a hold of a can of this just to FREAK my children out. Imagine the horror. Bwhahaha.)