Why You Love Sherlock: A Deduction

Welcome, come on in.

If you could just have a seat right there, shut up, and give me a second to examine you before I take your case on.

Aaaaaannnndd . . . I think I have everything I need.

Let’s start with your eyes.  There are clear and definite bags underneath, indicating that you have been up half the night – even though you probably told yourself not to do this again – watching BBC’s “new” Sherlock show.  So no, you don’t even have to tell me what your problem is; I already know it. 

You’re addicted.

It’s quite simple to see WHY you’re addicted; the signs are all there.  You don’t see it?  Ah.  I wonder what it’s like in that funny little mind of yours.  Must get so cramped sometimes.  Allow me to enlighten you.

• You have a pencil smudge on your right medial knuckle, indicating that you’ve been writing, but you are often writing above something you’ve written before.  This is suggestive of a puzzle of some sort – I’d guess Sudoku – but you’re not talented enough to complete the puzzle in pen without making mistakes.  Since the easier Sudokus can be completed in pen by any imbecile, you’ve obviously been trying to challenge yourself. 

So you love solving riddles, but you’re not exceptionally bright.  Watching “Sherlock” allows you to feel the rush of dopamine and serotonin when you’ve figured out something difficult, and you can experience that rush without being blessed with the perspicacity of the titular character.

The plain truth of the matter is that many of the crimes in the television series are easily solvable.  First-time watchers can often guess at least the culprit about halfway through the show, leaving them with a sense of superiority as the characters onscreen struggle to discover what the smug audience is screaming at them. 

•  Your fingers are thin, your hands are delicate, and your skin is pale.  Though you have a slim body, your muscle lacks any tone or definition.  Adding to all that your current slouching position, I’d guess you spend much of your day at the computer, often forgetting to eat for long periods of time.  While it is possible to use the computer frequently and have a social life – seeing as most jobs require computer use now – your pale skin and lack of tonality show you don’t get out much.  If you do socialize, it’s probably through forums or social media sites. 

Using the internet so frequently means you love to research.  Though your research probably consists of Marvel character backstories, “Game of Thrones” theories, and ways to make meals out of Ramen and Cheetos, you still consider yourself more intelligent than the average human due to all the reading you accomplish.  You also consider yourself socially inept – it’s hard to understand other humans if you rarely interact face-to-face.  Lastly, due to the instant-gratification of the internet, attention problems are becoming more prevalent in our society.  There’s little-to-no doubt that you suffer from self-diagnosed Attention Deficit Disorder.  

“Sherlock” is so addicting to you because Sherlock is the epitome of what you truly see yourself as: more intelligent than the average human, more of a social cockroach than butterfly, and easily bored with the world around you.  You feel an instant connection with a character who would probably detest you if you met in real life, seeing as he detests almost everybody.

Your baggy eyes tightened and your nostrils flared when I said that last bit – getting a bit defensive, are we?  And yet you remain silent.  While there are myriad ways you could insult me back, you have chosen not to.  This leads to our third deduction.

• You’ve remained silent throughout this interview, but your eyes have rolled several times and you’ve expelled air out your nose every time I insulted your meager intelligence.  There you go again.  I have no doubt that you are mocking my own intellect to yourself, but due to misguided politeness you have chosen to keep your mouth closed.

You have become so addicted to “Sherlock” because not only is he who you secretly see yourself as, but he commits the one act you would so dearly love to commit yourself – he is demeaning and rude with absolutely no filter.  Since you obviously see yourself as superior to most others around you, you no doubt question their intelligence with great frequency.  However, since a part of you still desires to be accepted in normal society, you refrain from insulting these acquaintances when they put their stupidity on display.  Watching “Sherlock” allows you to feel a certain catharsis in this respect.

• For the next deduction I’ll need your participation.  When I say the word “ship,” you . . . Right.  As I inferred.  No, don’t say anything, that self-conscious smile told me all I needed to know.  You know that “shipping” is a term used by fans to indicate which characters they’d love to see hook up on the show.  Or, in some cases, which characters’ hook-ups they create fan fiction about. 

You love that “Sherlock” caters so much to their fans.  With all the homosexual jokes about Sherlock and John, Sherlock’s “fan club” in season 3, and the fantasy kisses in season 3 (trying to be vague here to avoid spoilers), it’s obvious that they are aware of and answering the pleas of the fangirls.  And while you see through this ploy since you are oh-so-sharp, you love that they do it.  Why else would you be blushing right now?

• Which brings us to our final deduction.  Well, this one is more just common sense.  Regardless of your sexual orientation, you watch the show because Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are just adorable.  And Rupert Graves (Lestrade) is so much hotter than he gets credit for.

You see?

Fine.  You’ve caught on to my act.  Whatever.  Yes, I too am Sherlocked.

Now go away.  I have internets to read.

The Amazing Squooshi!

Stormageddon loves those squishy food packs.  If you’re a mother you probably know the things I’m talking about – they usually have applesauce, a fruit mix, a veggie mix, or some type of yogurt concoction inside.  I love them too: less mess, really easy to throw into the diaper bag, he can feed himself with it, win-win-win!  This post isn’t just for mothers though, because those squeezy things aren’t just for babies; I’ve totally seen adults chowing down on a squeezy applesauce pack.

So those squishy things.  Convenient, but quite expensive.  On a good day you’re paying about $1 for each container, which is pretty steep when you’re trying to save money.  I was thinking about it one day and I realized I could make the food pretty easily, and if I got something kinda like a frosting squeezer (wow, I have no idea what those are called) with a lid I’d be set!  And then I remembered that I wasn’t the only mother in the world and other penny-pinchers probably had the same idea so I wouldn’t have to resort to a frosting squeezer.

Enter The Squooshi.

Squooshis are exactly what I’ve been leading them up to be; they’re reusable squishy bags.  You twist on the cap, load up the bottom, seal the zip-lock, and you’re good to go!  I ended up ordering a set of 8 after reading all the reviews and checking out the competitors.  To make it even awesomer, they’re a small family company so if you buy their product you’re helping out some entrepreneurs!

What else makes them awesome, you ask?  Well.  They’re dishwasher safe.  They’re BPA free.  They’re easy to pour into (you just set it cap-down on the counter and pour).  They hold around 4 ounces, which is more than most of the one-use packs I’ve bought.  They freeze well.  And they come in awesome colors and patterns!

Six pack with a lion or a bluebird, or eight pack without?
Decisions are hard.

So for today’s Meatless Monday, I made some green smoothies for Stormageddon and threw them in the Squooshis.

I don’t really like green smoothies all that much, but I’m a better mother than I am an example and I like to make sure ‘Geddon’s getting the nutrients he needs.  Plus he’s too young to know that they’re gross.

For the veggie smoothie I blended 2 bananas (mine were frozen because I was out of fresh), 1 diced  zuchinni (or Italian Squash, as Sprouts pompously calls it), a handful of spinach, some water, and a splash of lemon juice (because the squeeze pack that I stole the ingredients from had it).

My fruit smoothie was even simpler: about 2 cups of frozen berry mix, a handful of spinach, and some water. 

And now I’ve got lots of veggie and fruit puree for the days when my little teether just doesn’t want to eat solid foods!  Thanks, Squooshi.  You’re awesome.

And no, I have no shame for blantantly advertising The Squooshi.  I think it’s an awesome product.  You should buy it.