My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's too busy stomping around the house muttering something about baby powder and kindergarten paste. I suspect that her cranky attitude has to do with the nasty bit of weather we're having, but I might also guess that she's now suffering the unfortunate side effects of being a rotund-ly sweaty woman who decided to powder her undercarriage after this morning's bath.
What can I say? Some people really shouldn't be left to their own devices, especially when they have the mental capacity of a dining room chair.
A fair bit of stitching went on last night despite the fact that Mo-ther tried to watch Aaron Sorkin's "The Newsroom" while doing so. You would think that she would remember that one must really sit up in the buggy to fully appreciate Mr. Sorkin's dense dialogue, but we're talking about a woman who also decided that she is capable of reading Thomas Pynchon.
Trust me. She isn't.
I do hope that you are all well and that you will be safe and careful during tomorrow's festivities if you are here in the good 'ol U.S. of A. If you're elsewhere, I hope that your Wednesday is everything you would wish it to be!
Until we meet again, I remain your devoted pal,