Still no picures...

So I went to that store (which is what I will call it because I absolutely loath this particular mammoth of a store but there's a severe shortage of the likes of Radio Shacks here in Gettysburg, and so I am forced to resort to trips to this particular chain of enormous stores at which you can buy a twenty-count package of underwear, a bicycle, a gallon of milk, and a gun - all in one convenient trip), and the only camera cable they had was one that also include fifty million other cables. I really only need a cable to plug in my camera, so the cable that would have allowed me to plug in my camera, my cell phone, my Palm, my video camera, my sat nav, my hair dryer, and the kitchen sink seemed...well it seemed a little excessive. And the price reflected that excessiveness. So I left the cable on the shelf at that store, and I have yet to venture to a Staples or a camera shop (or, heaven forbid, rummage through the still-unpacked luggage in my bedroom), so we are still image-less. And that's really a pity because there are some pictures well worth sharing.

In other news, Rhys has figured out how to work the VCR. Not the DVD player. The VCR. Now her reasons for electing to learn how to use this particular device are probably pretty good ones. I would venture a guess that one of those reasons is due to the fact that we own a ton of Disney movies on VHS. And now that she's figured out how to work it all (and that is, I might add, quite a feat because Eric has it all hooked up to a sound system, so it's rather complicated to get all the right buttons pushed and all the right lights glowing), she's taken to putting in movies at will, and I'll stumble upon her comfortably lounging in the playroom with her little eyeballs glued to the screen. We don't get any television reception, we don't have cable, and I usually reserve movies for those rare days when I just need an hour of quiet, so this "watching several movies a day while Mommy's cleaning the bathroom or putting away the laundry" thing is a big, fat problem. The movies aren't even at an easily accessibly level; they're on the top shelf of our entertainment center, but that didn't stop her from dragging a chair from the kitchen over to the shelf so she could reach.

I suppose I should look on the bright side. It could be much worse. Much, much worse. She could have learned how to use the microwave (Barbie bisque anyone?). Or the dryer (Would you like your stain to be Crayola red or blue?). Or Eric's electric beard trimmer (Allow me to introduce you to my children - this is Rhys and the two bald ones are Ben and Desi). On the other hand, I could always teach her how to use them properly, and then she could be making her own hot chocolate and doing her own laundry! Hmmm...the idea has merit!