Hey peeps. This has been one of those days when I just can't seem to get anything done. Mostly due to my foe, The Phone, and a bit to do with my child who intermittently grabs her throat and starts to cry. I called the doctor who said the scabs left from her tonsillectomy are likely beginning to slough off and this can hurt. "Yeah, I imagine so, what kinda drugs ya got for that?" was my educated response. No, not really I hold my southern street slang for y'all.
I ran into an old friend at Wal-Mart, America's gathering place, and she asked me how I was doing. I resisted the urge to tell of my morning that had left me desiring a necklace made entirely of Valium that I could lick at intervals, and instead smiled and said, "Fine, and you?" She was happy to share an unabridged photo album of her brood, 6 in all, and asked me when I was having another. The thought of this left me with a phantom ovary twinge. I explained that my quiver was small, and full.
Now I can't recall the names of all six of her children, but her favorite was obviously her third boy Marcus, because he was all she could talk about. He has excelled in EVERY sport, skipped a grade, and will possibly be the next spokesperson for the Public Library System because he has read so many books. ARGGG!! By the time she was through I remembered why she had lost the status of BFF. I was ready to be movin' on y'all, but not before I suggested she get Marcus started in Swedish lessons and Eloquence classes, lest he be at a disadvantage when he accepts the Nobel Peace Prize. Then I explained that we had to be going because we were reconstructing the Eiffel Tower from Sugar waffers.....I'm sure she thought I was a smart alec, and that may be, but it was not a lie.