Hey Little Boy, Ask Me Again Why I'm Tired

There's an area in our kitchen that is separate from the "food prep" area.

(I need a place to dump all assorted items of junk, and I like to use Food Network terms.)

You probably all know or have the type of area that I'm talking about. It's a section of counter covered in:
-school papers
-my calendar/organizer
-to do lists
-grocery lists
-bills to be mailed
-bills to be paid
-assorted pens and pencils
-stacks of stuff to mail to a war zone (well you may not have this)
-my purse
-a dirty coffee cup from ?day
-my camera
-coupons
-chapstick that fell out of my purse
-and whatever else happens to land there... which is where this story is heading...

On Wednesday night, I was turning out the kitchen lights and locking the doors in preparation for going upstairs. ('Cause once I'm up there, I'm not coming back down.)

I glanced over to my calendar (in this junk area) to check the next day's schedule to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything critical... like breakfast with my girlfriends or coffee with Jeanna, or a good sale at Hobby Lobby or saving the world...

And this is what I see.



Yep.
Those are grasshopper legs.

Placed lovingly there on the month of September for my personal enjoyment.

Plucked tenderly from a dead (I asked) bug in my yard.

(I do apologize for the poor photo quality... I was tired and it's hard to zoom in properly on bug legs.)

"Are these grasshopper legs on my planner?" (Stupid question.)

He answers, "Yep! They sure are!"

"Great. Now go upstairs and get in the shower."

I tossed those little legs in the trash and was instantly 135% more tired.