The schools are closed again tomorrow!
Too darn cold, they say.
No. This poem is not one of sorrow.
I'll put them outside to play.

Just kiddin. I won't. I haven't been out since Friday myself. Haven't showered since ... um ...

*looks up to the left, puts hand on chin, scrunches nose, furls brow*

... I honestly can't remember. And it was my anniversary yesterday. I was as dirty as the Statue of Liberty. It's not gross. It's symbolic. I'm plannin on showrin tonight so ya'll git off ma back!

And the crazy kid, my boss: Mr. Lloyd, he's into the expression "Oh, God," which I discovered is what I say when I see what he's destroyed of my house. He doesn't want to switch to "gosh." Me neitha. "Jesus" might be reasonable. I'll see what I can do.

I posted myself a little ditty in my kitchen and it goes a little something like this: "It's the lying; cheating; stealing; cunning; baffling disease, stupid." I like it. My 12-step friends laughed at it.

And I asked Rachel to forgive me. Without her crown on I forget she's a princess. :)

And the baby (the little eater that could) is currently equipped with his fourth poop of the day. Four! I know why poop smells.