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Once in a while, my parents will decide that I should be the one to make Sunday dinner. I don't mind, really, since it means I don't have to do dishes on those nights. What I do mind is that the aroma of last night's homemade chicken soup somehow spread through the entire house, infusing even my clothes in my overnight bag. Which is why I smell like chicken soup at 10 minutes to 8 in the morning.

In other news, I'm so happy that Taker successfully defended his World Heavyweight Championship at the Royal Rumble last night. Things are looking up for this Creature of the Night.

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