Can someone please, please tell me: why did I eat two brownies and drink an iced coffee, just now? Why did I do it? Do I enjoy the feeling of bugs crawling under my skin? Historically, I have not found it to be a fun-time sensation. So, knowing that this is how I will feel after I have made this kind of dietary choice, why did I soldier forth with the two-brownies-and-iced-coffee initiative?
I’m an idiot, I truly am. Why are you bothering with me?
But here’s a not-bad picture of me! And my husband! (He would want me tell you that he doesn’t always look that surprised.) And my son—wait, that’s not my son. It’s my friend’s baby. And look how cute she is! Her name is Tallulah. Could there be a better name? I don’t think so! Sweet Christ, I’m trembling from the caffeine and the sugar! Exclamation!
I thought Henry was napping, but now I hear him singing to himself. The singing is new. Once, when he was a few months old, he hummed "Ode to Joy" (I am NOT KIDDING) and we all gazed in wonderment at Henry, Child Prodigy, but then he clammed up, singing-wise. Right now he’s singing the ABC song, but he gets stuck after "d," so he just sings, "A, b, c, d, ...d, d, d....d, d, d, d, dddd...d..." I can’t figure out why he sounds so cheerful, as he’s had diarrhea and a fever all day. I would be less inclined to lie in bed crooning my favorite ditties, if I were simultaneously soiling myself with watery, burning poo.
You know what I could really go for right now? A brownie.