Keep your moon in the right house before it offends someone

Suddenly, my four-year-old is mooning everybody. "Look at my butt!" she squeals while exposing her little bottom to nearly anyone. "That is your private area," we tell her. "You can do that at home, not in public." Well, we shouldn't have said that. Many moons later, we're all pretty tired of seeing her little buns. "Can I show you my underwear then?" Great. Now the moon is peeking at us behind Curious George and Tinkerbell. I should be happy she wears underwear at all. When she was potty training, she refused. One day, my printer jammed. When I opened it, I discovered six pairs of Dora the Explorer underpanties stuffed into the paper tray. She showed me, alright. With her newfound exhibitionist tendencies, she's really showing me. Of course, just when I need it most, the real moon is covered up by clouds.

Keep your house clean and your mouth dirty

Quick, what's the fastest way to hiring a housecleaner? Tell your man it's his turn to clean. I've cleaned the ----ing house about twenty times in a row. It's time for everyone else in the family to get busy. After ten minutes and a wrestling match with our ----ing 1950 Electrolux, Brian was livid. Feel my pain, Mister! I told him I'd pole dance to make the extra money to hire our awesome Brazilian dancer/housecleaner. No, really. He's a Brazilian dancer, and I LOVE HIM.

See, here's the deal. When I was a teenager, I cleaned houses for extra money. Lots of houses. Rich people's houses. Lazy people's houses. Dog houses. Now I'm done, people. I've got two businesses to run, two little kids and dinner to make. So does everyone else in America. Why should I be the only one who keeps the house clean? "House Cleaning" is officially getting filed under "Utilities." Now all I want to worry about is keeping my dirty --s mouth clean around the kids. When I'm with my people, I'll cuss all I ----ing want.

Release your inner snowman before he wants benefits.

When it's icy like this, one question comes to mind: In Chicago, do they still call those things that fit over shoes rubbers? Or, is there a more PC way of saying that? My friend in Chicago says they've resorted to "galoshes." Sounds old-fashioned. Maybe there's high-tech way to say that, like "ice-deflection system." I think I like "rubbers" better. If anything, it implies alertness is required.

Open your heart to love and your mouth to chocolate.

Just so you don't think I've got some sugar problem - I'm visiting Sweets Etc. in Multnomah Village today to do a taste test...for my customers. I swear! I'm giving them treats this year, so don't tell them. My new psychic, the Magic 8 balls, says: "Definitely Yes," they'll love it. Sweets Etc. (7828 SW Capitol Hwy. Multnomah Village) rock candies my world. Tricia, the owner, handcrafts truffles and other chocolate delights in vintage jewelry showcases. She's got it all - ice cream, fudge, Swedish fish and surprises, like carmel-encased marshmallows and espresso malt balls. In the window: a chocolate Santa the size of my four-year-old. Tricia's raffling him off for charity. Would it scar my kids for life if I told them, Sorry, kids, Mommy ate Santa.