Friday, February 27, 2015

Day 8,306 of captivity. The younger male continues to call me "Mama" and demand I do things for him. Apparently he feels he is the boss of me. I will play along with his charade until I simply can't stand it anymore. Odd thing is, I've become very fond of him. I'm not sure how this happened. Or why. I just know I feel very protective over him, no matter what he makes me do or how I am treated. It's unsettling, really, the hold he has over me. 
Guess what happened at our house this morning? Nope, guess again. Nope, guess again...ok, I'll tell you! 


Dear sweet heavenly days, show me to the lottery tickets, please, cuz this is a day like no other!! Seriously, get out your red pens and circle today on the calendar. Like, this will probably never happen again. Ever. I did notice there was a ring around the moon last night. Might have something to do with it. I dunno, but I'm all for it, whatever it is!
And on the downside of up, Bubba is now coughing. UGH. Problem with that is, he sometimes spontaneously throws up with his coughing fits and there is no warning when it happens. This means I follow him around most of the day with a bucket, while he tries to shake me like a bad guy running from the cops. It's an art, really, predicting the puking + autism equation. I'm not positive Einstein himself could have figured out the probability of how many times I'd be in the right place at the right time vs. how many times I clean the carpets in a day. And so far the record is 9. Nine times in one day. That is, that I cleaned the carpets, not got lucky as a bucket wielding receptacle. The thing about it is, when he starts to get sick, he panics and runs...therefore, it's a bit like harnessing a lava flow. But enough about's your breakfast? :D
So, I hear we have more bad weather on the way. Snow. Sleet. Ice. I say HOGWASH! I have to be able to get to Springfield Monday, Randy and I both have Dr appointments. You hear me, weather? Don't bugger up on me! Not to mention I have a birthday coming up next Wed and I want to be able to have my swim party. I have a new bikini and everything. Stop laughing. Stop it! You're hurting my very last feeling! OK, that's can NOT come swim in my imaginary pool. And you may NOT use my pretend pool noodles. And you are NOT invited to play Marco Polo with me. That'll learn ya, dern ya. 

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