K is for Knick-Knacks

Kindred kamikaze kids keep knick-knacks kicking around my kitchen. Knowing I lost the knack for knowing a life of neatness...Karma? Kismet? Can't knock me for trying. Plus, there is a knave in my kingdom with his own knapsack full of kooky clutter. His name? Ken.

He fancies himself as the king of coupons and candy. Seriously, we have enough candy to call it clutter. Last week he thought someone had stolen some candy out of his car, and was surprised anyone would have been interested in his discount Christmas stash. I had to KO that myth, by letting him know that I had rescued his goods from the eighty degree heat of three weeks ago.

I keep trying to get Ken signed up for other tasks around here. His knife skills are frightening and we can kiss any dough kneading goodbye. Knitting is an unlikely hobby as well. The computer keyboard is the most likely place to find him. He plays Peggle like it's his job, is an entertainment know-it-all and completes surveys as if we might change the world. We earn some sort of kooky online funny money for the completion of these surveys, but I have yet to see anything purchased. Today though, a perk arrived in the mail in a fairly large, but very light, box.I know these are labeled "Code L", but I really didn't want to save this for tomorrow and mess up a potentially keen post (keep those fingers crossed that I don't kill another letter). We are apparently going to be toilet paper testers now! (Sorry T, I couldn't wait for you either.) Do you see that Diary roll there? Say "Diary roll" a few times quickly...got that? Did you go where I think you went? (I actually hope you didn't go at all.) Now please allow me to share some of the directions for using this toilet paper...(I will be so mad when it is letter X day.) I am fairly confident that all four of us cannot be trusted to carry on this mission simultaneously. Two of us could barely get through the directions without wetting ourselves.