Wow. I”m so blown away by how many comments I got–I mean, I know some of you get 20+ every day, but, GEES… for me that’s big mojo! (Of course the free stuff had a lot to do with it!)
Anyway, the reason I’m a baaaaaad blogger is that I didn’t put a closing date on the contest! I mean, can we sing six choruses of “I’m a dork…” Same, verse, same as the first? (I’m a dork I’m a dork I’m a big fat dork, I’m a dork I’m a dork, I’m a lame-o dork…)
So I figured that when I get home tonight, I’ll print out the list of glorious folks who dropped in to say ‘HI’, cut up the list into little folded up squares of paper, and have Chicken fish them out of a hat. Some of your requests I can do no problem–Jean, I’ll definitely donate a copy of Bitter Moon I (and II when it comes out) to the Natomas Public Library. Roxie, Chicken was so tickled by your request for some Chicken art, that she’s gonna make you a picture just because. Everybody else, I’ll announce the winners with my next blog–and if you haven’t gotten your comment in yet, you’ve got until tonight (Tuesday!!!)
And other than that?
I went home yesterday and tipped my head back for a catnap…and woke up three hours later. It’s a good thing Mate was there, or the grunion would have run around like, well, grunion! I have no idea why I was so tired (well, a small idea) but I don’t usually let it just take over me like that. *Chah…* Felt good!
And this morning Mate and I amused each other mightily.
Big T was running around like a 6’3″ headless chicken, freaking out because he couldn’t find his homework, and he missed the bus. I told him to calm down, Dad could get him to school, and that it would be cool.
I went in and reported the news to Mate, telling him, “It’s a good thing your car seats four–you’re gonna need another spot for Big T’s massive angst!”
To which Mate replied, “It actually seats five–we need a spot for Chicken’s insecurities as well.”
And as for the short people? Ladybug climbed into bed at 4 a.m. this morning whining about something…it took me several moments of mumbling at her idiotically to figure out she was saying “He’p me…he’p me…” Her diaper had come off while she slept and she needed a new one.
She just turned two last month–this is the closest to potty trained any of them have been when they were AGE 3. I’m not bright, but this one’s terrifyingly smart. *shudder*