Now that I have this thing called a job (that I still love, blahblahblah you know) I just am not making the time for blogging. It's much easier to come home and collapse into a pile of brainless slop on the couch. By then end of the day I am not only fulfilled beyond beyond belief, but also unable to make a coherent sentence.
When Faith asks me to do things like proofread her homework all I can do is flop violently on the couch and yell "WORDSWORDSWORDS - MAKE THEM STOP!". Of course that makes no sense to say when she's doing math, but I do suppose I still get my point across.
I told you that to tell you this story...
Faith broke her arm. Ok, sure that wasn't a very good lead in, but remember that part where I was all blahwordsblah?
Anyways, long story short Faith was on the playground playing with some friends who spun her around and around in circles when suddenly the school heffer appears and tackles Faith causing Faith to land on her elbow which causes a fracture near the growth plate at the elbow and some other place (Doc said it wasn't an important detail so I kinda blahblahed on that point) and the other Doc (orthopedist with nice ass and shorty socks (and lots of WORDSWORDS!)) said it's better be safe than sorry so (one very tedious run-on sentence later) Faith has a half cast covering from her elbow to her wrist for the next two weeks.
The above story informs the whole point (blahWORDSWORDSblah) of this post:
I was bathing Faith earlier when I tell her to make sure and wash all of her girl bits... like her hoohoo. She asks me WHY we have to bathe our hoohoos so much and then, before I can even respond about general cleanliness and hygiene and etc., she questions, "Why are hoohoos always getting dirty?"
I told her they were "self-cleaning on the inside, sort of like ovens", and with "so many folds (like hospital-cornered sheets)" they were "bound to get..." (thinking), "umm, what's the word?"
Faith says, "Boogers?! Boogers in your toot?!"
(:::Silence as I try to bounce back seamlessly from my deer-in-the-headlights-stare:::)
"Oh, and mama- on that subject I think you need to dig for gold in my nose later... If you know what I mean!"
--The Milk Maid says she still has no snark to quip at her daughter.
9/30/08
Catching Up
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5 comments:
After just being on the receiving end of the brilliance that is Ms. Faith, I could have told you that neither of us are smart enough to have a war of words with her. You silly, silly, hooman. 10 year old Aradia, that's all i'm sayin.
That's so funny! I hope her arm heals quick.
I heart that kid. Does she want to come Texas and visit Aunt Kirsten?
Boogers in your toot. that's good.
Well did you dig for gold? I hope her arm is feeling better!
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