Friday, June 30, 2006


Originally uploaded by rosebuttons.
The Famous A. has a comment on reading this blog, apparently. Everyone's a critic. Ah well.

This post contains neither nursing content nor knitting content, maybe because I've had four days off work and it just seems too hot to be knitting. But mostly because this little person is just too darn cute and far more interesting than anything I can blither about purling or the reasons why cancer sucks.

Today I went to Target and spent far far too much money because a.) Queen sheet sets were on sale, and b.) I have to buy new underwear on a weekly basis because Ted eats it. Seriously. He snoots it right out of the hamper and chews it up. Grody, I know. Then I went to happy hour where I could only have one drink because I had to drive home. So I think I need to either a.) Hire a full-time driver, b.) Use my bus pass to get to and from happy hour, or c.) Pretend my car is always in the shop and make people pick me up. I'll be pondering my options.

Oh and also...even though I have recently fallen head-over-heels for the charms of the above-mentioned tiny person (have you SEEN her?!), I still despise the rest of the world's children. Today I was leisurely enjoying a refreshing beverage at Starbucks until a hoard of blond childfreaks descended upon the bench next to me and proceeded to bang on the bench with their toys and screech loudly and constantly at the top of their lungs. Their parentard conveniently disappeared into a nearby store. Apparently, children don't grasp the concept that an evil glare means "Shutthefuckup" until they are quite a bit older. I would gladly have taught them that but I didn't have the patience today. As I was buying a snacky in Starbucks, their parentard came in to order a drink and her ineptitude at ordering an iced tea was saddening. Here's one of my pet peeves #415: When someone orders a drink but insists on using a hand signal to show what size of drink she wants, instead of using her Grown-Up Words. PEOPLE! Puh-lease! Anyway, as I was saying, apples...and trees...not that far apart.


Anonymous said...

as i stated, while at the aforementioned starbucks store...little blonde boys are the spawn of satan. and henceforth, you will understand why i will never, ever date a blonde man...for fear of one day possibly having children of my own with the tresses of evil.

girl_in_greenwood said...

Unfortunately, it seems that only the tards among us feel inspired to become parentards, thereby spawning a new tard generation.