You know those nights, right?
Nothing is quite right.
Grant is in our room, apparently dying with the flu. He is moaning and wailing and probably gnashing his teeth. I'm not sure about the gnashing part. That is just speculation.
Lucy is wide awake in her crib singing "Dowa, Dowa, Dowa, dee Explowa!" over and over and over again.
Michael is crying about the possibility that I may suffer a premature death.
I wanted to make Apple Cider Donuts and have them ready when everyone wakes in the morn - but I don't feel so sweet or domestic to provide piping hot donuts upon everyones awakening.
Tomorrow is Halloween. I used to love Halloween and then I didn't. I used to think it was harmless fun and then I thought it was the gateway holiday to Wiccanism. I feel like tomorrow I am reverting back to my harmless days. In fact, I want to go buy a circa 1950's house dress and wear red lipstick, pearls and heels just for irony.
I found out today that despite my grammatical pretense - I have, in fact, been using the wrong form of 'its' for my whole life. I know the difference between who's and whose, but I am humbled to realize that I have been an "its" offender. What evs.
Do you notice how many "I's" are in this little rant? I think I'll spare you any more.
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