I was at the store the other day picking up some things for dinner, and I got sidetracked by a display of really cute kitchen towels, which is weird, because who spends more than 10 seconds of their life thinking about kitchen towels?

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Dish towels are one of those things that you get 30 of at your wedding shower. You get so many that it seems like it's going to be a lifetime supply, and then you never buy them again.

Or your mom buys you a whole bunch when you finally leave home, and you're like, WTF mom, don't spend all this money on DISH CLOTHS, just give me cash.

It's not like anyone actively buys kitchen towels for themselves, right? It's not like they're important.

But your kitchen towel hangs there on your oven door handle in all its glory, and everybody sees it. You see it every time you come into the kitchen, a thousand times a day. There it is. Dingy and stained and ratty. You touch it every day. You use it constantly. Yet you continue using worn-out, fugly dish towels.

So I bought the new cute towels. They were $4.99. I was hardly breaking the bank. But it wasn't a necessary purchase. I have a whole drawer full of towels in the kitchen - some stained, some faded, most not very cute, but they do the job. They just aren't very exciting to look at.

What I am starting to realize is that sometimes, the best little treats are the nice kitchen towels. Or the fancy toothbrushes. The soaps that cost $15 each, but smell amazing. Super-soft pillowcases. Small luxuries that are relatively inexpensive, but make you happy when you use them, every single day - those are worth it. Life is too short to use ugly towels and scratchy pillowcases and bunchy underwear.

I challenge you, this weekend, to take one thing you use each day that's aggravating you, throw it out, and get a new one. A nice new one. Chuck your gross shower curtain or your un-cozy bathrobe or your grody juice pitcher, I don't know, just get rid of something that you use every day. AND UPGRADE. It doesn't have to be expensive, but don't get the 99 cent toothbrush, get the swivelling head toothbrush with the extra soft bristles and the cushiony grip, know what I mean? Get the good makeup brushes. Toss your leaky travel mug and get a really nice one that'll make you happy every day when you make your morning coffee.

That's your assignment for the weekend. Take one of your routine "musts" and make it into a daily treat, a little luxury. It'll be worth every penny.

1. White jeans: I finally found a pair of skinny-but-not-skintight white jeans to wear this summer. I got them on Sunday...and it's been raining and freezing every day since, so I haven't gotten to wear them. It doesn't mean I haven't been planning outfits.

Last year, I wrote about how my closet is full of too many stripes. I counted up my striped pieces and I resolved to not buy anything else with stripes. Guess how that turned out?

Just got this dress. And have bought at least 10 striped things since I wrote that post.

The obvious takeaway here is that I like stripes. Every time I go shopping, I gravitate towards racks of striped things.

So why should I stop buying stripes? If I'm a stripey girl by nature, why would I want to force myself to be a solid or floral or plaid person? Shouldn't I just go with what I know I like and feel comfortable in, instead of putting on some stupid paisley and feeling miserable?

It's a simple thing, but I think it applies in other areas of our life. I have friends who are die hard runners, but keep trying to make fetch happen with spin class or yoga, and they just don't love it. "But I want to stick it out," they say - WHY?

Why stick it out if you know you don't like it?

If you give something an honest effort, and it's not your bag, that's OK. Not everything has to be the best.thing.ever. for every person. You tried. You don't have to love every single thing. It's not admitting defeat to say you don't like something.

Figure out what it is you love, what works for you, and stick with it. For me, that's stripes, skinny jeans, flats, running, minimal makeup, being an early bird, funny movies, and beach vacations. It isn't bright crazy patterns, eyeliner, staying up late, watching documentaries, golf, or zumba. That's not to say I will never enjoy those things, but for now, my closet will be stocked up with clothes I know I like, I will be going to bed at 10pm and I won't be spending money on red lipstick.

When I buy my zillionth striped shirt, I'm doing it because it makes me happy, not because I have a problem. And I'll probably wear it all the time. As long as you're open to at least trying different options, there's nothing wrong with sticking with what you know you love.

Today is National Running Day. I drove to the gym near my office and slogged out 5K on the treadmill in 27 minutes while watching baseball highlights and clips of Rob Ford looking like a fool on the noon news.

It wasn't a particularly far, fast, scenic, or otherwise noteworthy run. It wasn't even all that enjoyable. I mean, it's a treadmill in a gym in an industrial park. It's not like I was running along a Caribbean beach or through the streets of Rome or the Runyon Canyon. I definitely didn't break any records for distance or speed. And I didn't look amazing doing it, unless yellow t-shirts and pink sneakers are your thing.

But the thing about running is that even that most unremarkable, unimpressive of runs? It made my day. I'm back at my desk now feeling clearheaded, refreshed, ready for the afternoon. I feel accomplished - something checked off my to-do list. I added it to my Daily Mile page. Three more miles for the week.

As simple as it seems to put on a pair of sneakers and run - just run - it's something to be thankful for, each and every time, even a clammy 5k on the treadmill at lunch. So many people want to run, but can't. So many people can but don't want to. Being able to run is a wonderful thing.

I'm not exaggerating when I say running has changed my life. It helped me lose 40 pounds. Even though it's the most solitary of sports, it's helped me feel like I'm part of a team, a community. It's my alone time, my time to think, plan, let my mind wander, zone out. It doesn't require any special skill, complicated equipment or expensive memberships - no matter where I am, I can run.

We're having a little dilemma here. Eli knows the names of all the parts of his body. All of them except one. Any guesses as to which one?

We can't agree on what to call...it. I have been vaguely saying "that's your privates". I feel like I just want to say penis, because after all, that's what it's called, right? But does it seem weird to have a tiny kid talking about his penis?

Peter refers to it as his bird. Not HIS bird...Eli's bird...you know what I'm saying.

We can't reach a consensus. I say, let's just call a spade a spade and a penis a penis. That's its proper name, end of story. Peter thinks a toddler using the word "penis" is "creepy".

Anyway, tonight, I was giving Eli his bath, and he starts talking about a bird. "Oh, did you hear a bird chirp?" I asked and then I looked and saw what he was showing me, and uhhh, it wasn't a chickadee. It just reinforced the point that we need to figure out what we're calling this item, ASAP.

So please help us, parents of little boys, people who were once little boys, anyone at all, Internet at large, this is me reaching out for help.

How do you refer to a toddler's junk? Proper names? Slang? Did you invent a name so when he starts yelling about it in church no one will know that William Robinson is actually a wiener? Discuss.

some images for inspiration