Evidence of Satan’s overactive imagination. Only he could know that even a lover of children would want to slit their little throats when they were singing previously “young adult” chansons in chorus. Funny because I love boys’ choirs. Hm. Anywho, very little has happened today to inspire me aside from horrifying commercials that reduce the most timid person into a blood-thirsty serial killer.
Is it possible to go outside without getting stopped by annoying kids and their often equally annoying parents? Parents who seem to take your presence as an invitation to babysit… It looks beautious outside but I honestly very rarely get up the “spiral” steps without alerting “them”. Mostly because Ezra talks hella loud. The point is that I would rather just open a window and enjoy the breeze that way than get dressed with an intention of walking away from our complex only to get wrangled into babysitting children who are as zealous about wanting to hug and kiss Ezra as their parents. Maybe a drive…
Wait… on Wow Wow Wubbzy, she/he/Pat just caught a bubble on her/his/its tongue and when it splat, it was “sour milk”. Blech, anyone? Yes. Yes, we would.
So my sister and brother are driving cross-country and called me to tell me about the adventures of asking a country old Black man for directions. Hilarity, bien sur. So they’re in Ohio – or were when we spoke – and I had to look at my son’s place mat to see where that is. Hah. No joke. I are IB. Anyway, that made me think: a) I actually am looking forward to renting a huge Itasca RV (assuming it’s before I am settled down enough to buy a massive one) and driving to Wisconsin for the Morrow family reunion some June. b) How come no one ever asks me to drive cross-country?? Granted, I hate driving for long periods of time. Like three hours is the max. Plus I complain a lot. About the driving. Or the inability to fall asleep in a car. And I’m generally not the funnest person to be around. But still. It stings.