Oh no, Papa, don't be salty.

January always feels like a bumpy month: the promise of the new year, the dreaded head cold — a lot happens in a short time.

And Papa is off to a crazy start. When my parents and I went out for dinner on Sunday, she broke into the kitchen, shredded a bag of flour (and licked it so it crusted on the floor), sprinkled hard candies all over, and ate half of a cake left on top of the stove. (No photos — we just wanted to clean up and watch the Packer game.)

So here’s a photo of a less messy tableau. Sigh.