I am sorry to tell you that your dream of owning an ice-cream shop in the neighborhood is over. A gelato shop opened up the hill. You would be proud of the owners. They put in huge tables for big gatherings, leather couches, and a fireplace under a big hearth. The gelato is so pretty; yellow, orange, green. Color good enough to suck, lick, slurp. I had lemon and blood orange. Mira had cookies and cream mixed with blood orange. Max had cookies and cream.
I have started to worry that I am mean to animals. When Cairo licks herself at night and I can't go to sleep because it sounds like I am hearing a dog's bad make-out session I yell, "Cairo! Shut up!"
I feel bad about that.
And sometimes I throw my book at her. I never hit her with it, it just lands close enough to say, "I mean it. Shut up." And she shuts up.
I feel bad about that too.
I feel bad that I put a weevil down the disposal and turned the switch on.
I am having pregnancy symptoms. Tenderness. Bloating. Frequent urination. I'm not pregnant though. It's just gas and PMS. If I were pregnant with something more than gas and PMS, and that something was a baby, I would want a boy. I would call him Charlie. I would quit school and nurse Charlie and turn the T.V. back on and watch Soap Operas.
I got in big trouble with Dad. It started with Glee and The Thong Song. Do you remember that song by Sisqo? Well I got it stuck in my head and started singing it all the time, which led to Mira getting it stuck in her head and singing it all the time, and Dad hearing his seven year old singing the words, "Let me see your thong, thong, thong, thong, thong!" I am not allowed to sing that song anymore (with Dad or Mira around).
We just finished having candy weekend. Yesterday I ate three sugar cookies, a slice of pumpkin pie, a slice of lemon meringue pie, Hot Tamales, an Almond Joy, a KitKat and a bowl of chili. This might explain my pregnancy symptoms. I am pregnant with a wad of candy-pie which soon will be born anew in the form of crap. That is all I create anymore. Crap and poo.
Enough about me, let's talk about you!
Tell all. Love you!
Mom
6 comments:
You're disgusting!
I loved this, Mom.
This made me laugh out loud. And I want a little boy named Charlie, too:)
you are awesome. and i love the name charlie- boy or girl.
I choose to think this is some kind of warning that you are thinking of another child--a Charlie child--couldn't be more delighted.
Who wouldn't want a Charlie after seeing Charlie bit his brothers finger on youtube.
There is nothing quite like the food baby, and the holidays bring them in spades.
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