An Olympic Event

For Michael Phelps, life is just eat, sleep and swim. I can relate to that. I eat, sleep, and have a swimmingly good time sacked out on the couch.

It's where I do my best eating. Which with these games, is becoming an Olympic sport in itself.

The best part of having an Olympic addiction is sharing it with others. My cousin, for starters. Here he is with three very rowdy athletic supporters:

See those trendy Olympic shirts? They're straight from the Mother Land. I flew all the way to China to buy those Shirts Of Exceedingly High Quality. Did you know that when I wash them, they insist on sharing their colorful love with all that is around them?

Even after the 487th load?

Speaking of laundry-creating hooligans, here are the boys getting prepped to make their "miniature fruit pizzas:"

Are you marveling at my fruit bowls? Which represent the FIVE OLYMPIC RINGS?

Blue - - Black - - Red
Yellow - - Green

Blueberries - - Black grapes - - Strawberries
Pineapple - - Kiwi

(Because I knew someone would ask.)

And although Ziggy (4) informed me that "he didn't want any of that healthy fruit on his cookie," I had no trouble loading it up on mine:

(We interrupt this post to apologize for the "One Side Flipped Up, The Other Side Laid Flat" Hair Issue. It's got problems, okay?)

And if gorging on fruit pizza wasn't enough, here's the Suz just waiting to scald her hands on taste The Pizza Decorated With The (What Else!) Olympic Rings:

I love the Olympics. The excitement, the food, the fun. The excuse to let 439 other things slip for a few weeks every couple of years. The Great Mood I'm in from staying up too late every night.

Bliss.