Profiting Off Death and Destruciton... I Hope

Allright, allright... I'm not as bad as all that.  I'm talking about the t-shirts I made related to Osama bin Laden's death and posted to my Cafe Press store.

Actually, let me back it up a little and explain.  Sunday night, I was pretty proud of myself that I was going to get into bed by 10:15 (hopeful for a full night's sleep) when I checked my Facebook account and saw the chatter about the Presidential address.  Wondering what on earth he had to say so late - on a Sunday, no less - I decided to turn to CNN and check it out.  Although I was wishing it were Anderson Cooper rather than Wolf Blitzer (wow, how torturouse his commentary was), I realized the news of Osama bin Laden's death was history in the making.  Just before I finally turned off the TV at 1:30 (yes, AM), I heard a tag phrase that stuck.  "Obama Got Osama."  Immediately, I thought that would make a great t-shirt.

I've been trying to create shirts that people would want to buy and get them up in a quick-like fashion, so I got right on the design and came up with three.  They may not be the most original messages in the world, but I'm proud of the designs.  I do feel a bit of guilt trying to profit from another human's death no matter how awful he was, but the promise of popularity and possibility of a stay-at-home income has overridden that guilt.

Want to see them?   Well, two of them?
 
Wait for it... (SHAMELESS PLUG) If you like them and want to buy one, click on the shirt to go to my store.

If I sell enough, maybe I can afford to upgrate to a premium store where they let me have more than one image on each product type.  Then you could see the third design.  Ah, the torture and shameless begging.  Hmmm, here's hoping!

Moving with a Toddler Sucks

So, I know you think I've dropped off the face of the earth, but I've been experiencing something a bit more terrible.  I've been moving.  With a toddler.  And no help wrangling but from my mother.  Now, my mother is descended from a branch of Super Woman's line, but we are no match for those two itty bitty little hands and two quick as lightning feet.

Three weeks into it, I finally have everything out of the old house (the garage as the only exception) and all of the boxes stacked into my new garage.  Slowly but surely, I am unpacking each box one by one.  "Great," you say?  Me, too!  Except the Toddler Terrorist comes behind me and wrecks it all.  The Tupperware closet that took me 2 hours to arrange?  Destroyed in 30 seconds flat.  The kitchen cabinets that took me 2 days to organize?  Upended in 10 minutes.

Seriously, someone should make a movie out of it.  I can see the tag line now: "If The Blob scared you and War of the Worlds put terror deep in your soul, then you have to watch... The Toddler Terrorist!"  He's fast as quicksilver and just as slippery; he'll distract you with his angelic face and devilish ways; don't turn your back, or you'll regret it!  Scary stuff, huh?

Luckily, I love that kid beyond distraction and his dad will take him for a couple of days soon.  I'll make up the setbacks in no time.  After a solid night's sleep!