Therapeutic

While the Swagger Wagon is in the repair shop, I have a pretty pimped out (albeit, temporary) ride:

Brother Bear thinks it's the ultimate in coolness. I, on the other hand, am too overwhelmed by the smell of men's cologne (that was apparently POURED in the back seat) to think whether I like my undercover cop car rental car. I'm pretty certain that Brother Bear is praying the Swagger Wagon isn't fixed by the first day of school so he can arrive in the carpool line in style.

Due overwhelming stress of my car being violated in such a horrific manner, I've been forced into intensive therapy. I'm currently attending sessions daily. It's a unique form of therapy created by a pioneer in the field, Betty Crocker.

It's working wonders, as you can see. This sessions was S'mores Brownies. It was life changing. I really think I broke through some tough barriers. Evidenced by my falling into a sugar coma serious nap after said session. (Note unique placement of S'more Brownie next to measuring scale. Rest assured, no brownies were weighed-in during this session)

On a completely unrelated note, I cannot fit into any of my clothing.

Ahem.

My therapy assistant:

I think I can overcome just about anything with that smile.