Kale salad- dinner entrée extraordinaire, nutso misc
/My husband would definitely NOT agree with the idea that in a million years, a kale salad could be an entrée, much less an extraordinary one. But, as he is on a train right now, I'm living the dream of a Kale.Dinner.Salad. Fab! I also might be the slightest bit tipsy because since 3p on, things have been slightly hairy. Jack had his 6 year old well-child exam at the ped's office, and all was great until...dah, dah...The Lab! Anyone within earshot surely thought we were sawing his limbs off slowly and one at a time. In truth, he was having a bit of blood drawn and undergoing the TB prick test. I'm not saying either is fun, but seriously. I had my legs and arms wrapped around his, and not one but 2! lab techs had to assist. Oliver looked askance, as if he were thinking, "WTF, Jack?! I just did this at my 3yo visit and didn't have a cow in the process." In any case, it was finally all over, he delighted in the hearing/sight tests, really thrilled in receiving a Batman sticker and we ambled home. At this point, Oliver started expressing so much flatulence that I could have blown up balloons. Finally he headed off to the pot and Mr. Do It By Myself (bless him but please, know when a job is above your skill-set) insisted he could wipe. Until he couldn't. Truly folks, how that much poop got so many places is beyond me, but I just said, kids- into the bath now! and we started the bedtime routine off early. Mon dieu, it was nasty, and I started looking forward to a glass of wine.
Fast forward to my dinner-time, and I just had to have a kale salad. This is definitely compost salad 2.0. I am all about massaging raw kale with olive oil (great for your hands too!) and tossing it with stuff + a zingy garlic-lemon-salt dressing. Tonight's version is a keeper, and I will share the recipe. 
On another, stupid and lame note, is anyone, ANYONE, surprised about TomKat? If no one -not my parents, friends, birth certificate, me- had ever called myself Emí, but then some crazy crush insisted upon doing so (Katie/Kate, peeps), would I marry him? Probs not, especially if he were a Scientologist for the love.
Just for kickers, my auto-correct does not recognize "Scientologist" as a word. It's a little funny.
