Friday, November 30th, 2007

auntbijou: (Default)
I'm sorry I haven't been replying to comments.  I'm only up for such short periods.  Mostly, I'm in bed, dozing, or coughing, depending on which version you prefer.  So, I tend to post, then go pass out for a few hours, get up, read, pass out again... you know the routine.  So, here's another of my quick bursts.

Yes, Annie, I would love a card from you, and I will send you one, too, if I can actually stay up long enough to work on one.

I have read some fic that I thoroughly enjoyed but have not commented on, but [personal profile] softly_sweetly[personal profile] eriador117, [personal profile] iamshadow, and [profile] knightmare_shad   (among many others), love, love, love! 

I got the results of the X-Rays, and so far, it looks clear.  Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to crawl back into bed and curl up under the quilts and sleep.  Or something.

Oh, and just to make y'all chuckle, the Impossible Son has started, for lack of a better term, styling his hair.  He wets it, and carefully combs it to look the way he wants.  (I'm trying real hard not to giggle here, because it makes me cough, but it's so FUNNY!)  So, this morning, I'm driving the kids to school, I had just dropped off the Impertinent Daughter, and Mr. Manzie says, "Mom, we have to go back home."

"Why?" I said, peeking at him in the kid mirror I keep clipped to the rearview mirror.

"You'll see when we get there."

"No.  If we go home, you'll be late.  Why do we need to go home?"  I'm thinking, did you spill your drink on your pants?  Are you going to throw up?  Is this going to make me want to cry?  Because I really wasn't feeling up to dealing with whatever crisis was imminent, you know?

*Big dramatic sigh*  "I need to comb my hair again! "

O_o???

"Huh?" was my intelligent reply.

"I need to comb my hair!" he insisted.  "It's...messed up!"

I look in the mirror.  It looks just like it did when we left.  "Nope, sorry, not going home for that, dude.  Just fix it with your fingers."

"MOM!!  I have to look good for my girlfriends!!  DUH!!  I can't do it with my fingers!!"

Yes, I almost had an accident while struggling not to burst out laughing, coughing, or otherwise imploding.  "Yes, officer, that's right, I ran into the Johnson's house because I was having a coughing fit induced by my struggle not to laugh about my son's hair care issues."

That would go over well.  Apparently, the Impossible Son has a harem.  This explains why, when I go to pick him up, he's surrounded by a circle of giggling six year old girls.  He's very gentlemanly with them, bowing to them when he says goodbye, kissing their hands before he steals their toys...  *shakes head*

Okay, I have to go lay down now.  Have a good day, y'all!

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