I am no longer hip. No wait, I’m even less than hip, I’ve totally screwed the pooch on my hipness. I even messed up Boom Boom Pow. When I asked the kids who was jackin’ my chickens they started laughing and couldn’t stop. Literally, they laughed for half an hour and “jackin’ my chickens” has become the new buzz phrase in our house. When son #1 finally regained his composure he howled “Mooooommmmmm!!!!!!!!! It’s ‘Those chickens are jackin’ my style!!!!!!’ ” Seriously? How is that different? In fact, jacked chickens make a hell of a lot more sense to me.

Anyway, I’ve got so much to catch you up on, but so little time! Is that cuz someone’s jackin’ my time? Is this how jackin’ works? My thoughts are a little fuzzy anyway. I need more coffee. I was trying to dial the phone and make espresso at the same time. Somehow I ended up talking to the coffee cup on my ear and managed to snatch the phone back out of the espresso maker right before sweet brown elixir rained down from the heavens.

I have 14 minutes before I’m taking the kids to Dawn of the Dinosaurs. 14 minutes to try to consume enough caffeine so as not to fall asleep standing up. Someone jacked my sleep too. We saw the American Idol Tour last night. I guess Adam Lambert and the gang jacked my sleep. I’ll fill you in on that later. Somehow my 14 minutes has evaporated. I had to get more coffee, the coffee I had earlier keeps making me have to pee, and those kids of mine aren’t listening. Someone has seriously jacked my chickens. Or my style. Either way, I’ll be back later. Peace out. (SEE?! I’m HIP!)