membrane

Steven and Morgan gave me the plague. Thanks a pant-load.

Apparently this is a taste of life with a small child. I'm trying to get Morgan to say she's a tumor. It's not sticking the way some phrases are. She's almost 4 and she seems to like me. Those two facts in tandem really freak me out sometimes. I've known her almost a quarter of her life AND she likes me. I must keep in mind that at this age, she doesn't know any better. Steven told me I get to teach her about her dot when she hits tween-hood. Yikes.

So, I spend a lot of time with them and the three of us are pretty invested. It's a nice, roomy cage-feeling. Safe/a tad scary as opposed to repellent.

I guess I'm okay with getting the Day-Care-Cough-Cold-Mucusy plague a while longer.

The Art of Control

And really, it's not just for continence pants.


The cosmic "they" said, "Relax. Hey, all work and no play and blah blah blah....You're so wound up yak yak..." But what "they" don't know is If I ever relaxed, even for a split second, then my whole world would just fall apart in a blaze of everything happening with out my interference.

Boogety, boogety.

If I were to let go, I might just learn that the universe if fine without my opinions, fussings and pot stirrings.

It's the sun that Earth revolves around. I'm only supposed to be along for the ride.

AHHhhh
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At least I still have a say over what color hoodie I wear today. Hmmm, Pumpkin orange.