eyeball bender

My mom used to get a subscription to a magazine called Games when I was growing up. They used to have this feature called Eyeball Benders where you had to identify an item or product from just a small piece of an image or a logo or something. This guy likes them, too. Anyway, here's my own little eyeball bender for ya'll.
Can't guess? Don't know what it is yet? Ok, I'll tell you.
This would be the inside of my forearm after kissing the edge of a hot sheet pan tonight. Stupid cookies.
In addition to the searing flesh, Pink has been dying for me to blog about what happened yesterday.
We took Jackers to a park to let him check things out and cruise the slide. The little dude loved walking aimlessly all over the place, through the grass, on the path, wherever. He was a man on a mission, just about never stopping for anything.
So I'm walking with Jack when I realize I've stepped in dog shiz. Gross, brown, smushy, and smelly. Oh, did I mention I was wearing my Rainbows?
As I'm calling for Pink to grab Jack and as I'm assessing how much poo I've actually gotten on the side of my flop (because all I care about is making sure it doesn't get on my naked foot) I feel, rather surprisingly, like my other foot is being stabbed with tiny needles. It took me 1.2 seconds to recognize that I was feeling pain because I was so focused on wiping my shoe on the grass without spreading the poo any closer to my skin (yeah, I know, I could have just taken it off my foot to wipe it on the grass but that would have been too easy and then my hand would have been too close to the poo).
Right, so here I am with one flip-flopped foot in shit and the other one attacked by fire ants.
Brilliant.
On a bright note from the weekend, we got Jackers his first pair of Chucks. Also brilliant.