My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Deceptive Bathrobe

I am on my way to pick up Dusty and take her to Kindergarten Testing where she will astound and amaze the teachers with her verbal and reading abilities. I’m sure there will be plenty to talk about tomorrow.

Before I go, though, I have a few random things to get down on virtual paper. First, a belated thanks to those of you who left kind notes about my kids after I threatened you to do so. I’ll be sure and do that again sometime since that seems to be the only thing that works. Your reward, slender though it may be, is a few more photos. One of which may end up being my all-time favorite photo of Red that might have to be used for her high school graduation invitations so she can be mortified and never speak to me again. See if you can guess which one it might be.

I received spam the other day with the subject line “deceptive bathrobe” which made me laugh. I mean, at least the spammers are getting creative. All I ask from spam (before I delete it) is a laugh because I don’t need a huge penis or huge tits (though, I have to admit that normal sized ones would be nice) or medications of any kind or another mortgage.

Dusty quotes:

“You know what? Once when daddy was driving me to school, we saw an old man eating a pear – all the way to the seeds. He was crunching on it. We called him Old Pear Man.”

“Did you know, every day everybody says ‘Do you want to come to house?’ Everyday! I’m tired of it.”

It’s tough being popular. Or so I’m told.

By the end of the month, my car will be paid off. Five long years of payments are coming to an end. When I first got it it had about 58,000 miles on it. Now, it’s got almost 133,000. 75,000 miles in five years; an average of 15,000 miles a year I drive. Is that a lot or does it just seem like it ‘cause I’m still a city girl at heart?


2:19 p.m. ::
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