Do you ever have those dreams where they're just so horrible you feel totally shaken when you wake up? I had one of those this morning and it was just horrendous. I still feel a little bit sick to the stomach actually! UGH!
In my dream Jeremiah left me, completely without warning for this really really really ugly super tall chick. Like SUPER TALL. And they were all making out in front of me with tongue and groping hands. It was seriously something I will have burnt into my mind forever.
And I was yelling in my dream like the sorry sap that I am, "I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU END UP RUINING OUR DREAMS WITH SOME UGLY YUCKY PERSON!?"
and then he calmly says, "You drive me nuts." They walk away hand in hand. End Scene, bring on the tears.
I'm hoping this bowl of cheerios and strawberries will cheer me up and if that doesn't work, I bet the coffee will suffice...or the beautiful weather.
I'm going to head to the store today to get some 'outside' crap for the summer. We're saving for a new car right now and probably will be for awhile, so me and the kids are stuck at home a lot while Jeremiah is at work. I'm looking into the whole bus thing, I know there is a bus stop at the end of our street, but someone told me that you have to change buses and be on the bus for an hour before you can change to get to our town's public pool. We could probably walk there in an hour! It would just be one hell of a trek.
So anyone have any suggestions? Right now I'm thinking baby pool, maybe a volleyball net? A sprinkler?
Oh! Squirt Guns! My little brother and I used to play with those for ever. My mom hates guns in every form though, and she'd always be upset that we were shooting each other...even though it was just water.
Or sometimes hot water, just to put a little fear into my snotty brother!
Ah-Ha! Talk That Jehosophat!!!!!!!!!!
Poor Joshy...that's my brother. Otherwise known as Jehosophat, or Phats...which is funny cause my dad calls him Phats most often and Josh has never been even remotely fat. Ironically he was actually negative fact, being that he was like 1 pound 13 ounces at one point.
(Side note: he was born at 26 weeks gestation)
And although I was gentler than most older siblings are with their little brothers, I still tortured him and he still bugged the ever loving shit out of me. We had this one game called beat up dancing. We'd tango down a line and at the end we'd start hitting each other, and then continue tangoing back.
I also made him try to smoke a green bean from the back yard garden once.
I'll end this strange post on that strange note.