HOLY HALIBUT!!! You're 12 Today!!??!!

Wish upon a star my angel,
wishes do come true!
You'll be wishing on,
the same bright stars,
we wished upon for you!

Today my oldest turns 12. It is incredible to me that 12 years ago I was in the hospital having 32 hours of back labor, trying not to scream because I did not want to scar the baby and give her a complex about her giant-ass, alienesque shaped head. I ended up with a C-section and a morphine trigger finger. Oh and a baby, I should mention her, as she was an excellent hospital parting gift along with the free breast pads!

I have had something to do with her turning out the way she is. I suspect she is still having returning trauma issues about the night I put Arm & Hammer toothpaste (with baking soda for extra whitening power) on her diaper-rashed ass and lady parts,,,,,, instead of A&D Ointment.

I still remember bending her over in the sink,, both of us screaming bloody murder,, whilst I splashed cold water on her minty fresh ass for an hour..

Ah good times, people,,, (insert dramatic pause and thoughtful sigh here),,,,, good times...

Her first day (ever) in daycare was at age 4. I had been home until then working nights or having her grandma watch her. Her dad had just left and we were having some problems with her. It broke my heart to take her there and leave her for 8 hours. Maybe I was scarred more than her.

Upon entering the school I was told I could stay and observe for as long as I would like. MsDebate walked in and for some reason made a bee-line to three boys who were standing by little primary colored chairs. She addressed the first boy and asked him to sit down. Almost instantly the slight kid sat in his assigned chair. The second boy was also told to have a seat, at which time a specific seat was graciously pointed out to him. He also sat and looked up at my daughter awaiting further direction. The third boy was invited to take a rest moments later, he however declined his generous peers invitation.

"You can sit HEEEEEERE" she said, Vanna Whitin' a blue chair.

"But I don't WANT to sit" was his quick response.

"Ooooh, But,, I REALLY think you SHOULD..." Was matter-of-factly advised.

The little boy then joined the others in my sweet daughters version of the girl directed mandatory "rest for preschool boys" plan.

I was told BY MsDebate that I could leave if I wanted. It sounded like this:

"You leave now, k?"

I did.

I thought she would be fine, but, there would be problems, she began to hit. Mommy came early when she hit. The daycare told me on a Friday, IN FRONT OF HER that from now on if she hit, she would be sent DIRECTLY home.

This was GREAT as she missed mommy!

The previous weekend was the Ex's first weekend WITH the girls and WITHOUT me. The quiet in my house was shattering. The first thing MsDebate did Monday morning (after eating breakfast of course) is hit a unsuspecting kid on the knee.

I got called and cried all the way to the center. I was trying to be strong while going through all of these changes myself. I took her to the car, put her on my lap and took a very strong disciplinary stance with her. We talked in the parking lot about the incident for quite a while. I tried not to break down but finally just took her in my arms and held her as tight as I could.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and said:

"This was all I ever wanted."

I broke down and told her how much I love and have missed her when I was gone away,,, BUT,,, I would ALWAYS come back.

She started crying again and told me:

"There were too many "darks" since the last time I saw you, mommy."

I agree. I cry as I write this part. I never like the "darks" we are apart. That's the part of divorce that haunts me the most. And this recollection is very prolific to the bad situation I am in right now.

They must know that I will ALWAYS come back to them.


This was the picture on the
her Birth Announcement,,

I water colored it making the dress
blue and the flower centers a pale yellow.

First Halloween October, 1998

I made her a "sweet-corn" costume
she won FIRST PLACE!!!!!!!!

At her Kindergarten graduation ceremony, each teacher held a mic to make a nice statement about every student as they handed them an award. You could tell who the troubled students were because they got complimentary statements such as:

"Little Tommy has really learned how to raise his hand before peeing in class!!"

And:

"Susie Lou,, What a GREAT name!!"

Or:

"Johnny those are the coolest shoes!!!! Johnny always has the BEST shoes!!"

I was nervous when it was MsDebates turn as she was still going through rough time then. She be-bopped up with long dark pony tails and skirt in full little girl swing.

The teacher smiled with crackly mic in hand and stated loudly:

"MsDebate, has a VERY creative mind!!"

The audience all clapped in recognition of another obviously "specially disciplined" child. I could see the gerbils running on the wheel in MsDebate's mind as she swirled 'round to face the audience to leave. But before leaving, she turned back to the teacher, pulled the mic over to herself and questioned:

"Creative is GOOOOOD right??!!"

The teacher was a little shocked, but took the mic back and stated to her that creativity was VERY good. MsDebate, stood on her tippy toes to make full on eye contact with me, flashed me the "thumbs-up" sign, and an ear to ear "Im gettin sumthin' fer this" grin before running off the stage to a bevy of laughter. I got stared at and even patted on the back for her innocent moment of BRILLIANT comedic timing..

Things are always like that with MsDebate. She always has some way of slipping in a funny comment or silly face at the most inappropriately wonderful times. I deduce she is a lot like me in that respect and worry, a lot!! I now am now trying to fill huge comedic shoes for her, those of my own genius laugh mentor, my dad.

I suspect many an angel has sat on a whoopee cushion since he arrived in heaven.

She's MONEY!!

Houston,, you MAY have a problem!!!

The world is in for a rare treat as MsDebate blazes her way through it. And I hope she ALWAYS comes back to me in the end.

Happy Birthday Baby!

YYYYYYYYY

I love you the MOSTEST!!!!

(just don't tell Dramagirl or Traxx........)

ALWAYS dance!! Even though you can't "Break it Down" or "Break a Bone" like mommy!!!

I can't even count the number of times I sang this, late at night, just me and you, rocking softly. You were asleep by the 3rd or 4th line, but I could not put you down.

What a wonderful gift you are to me!!!

Even when you think I am dumb!!!

Bless me, I just sneezed...

Welcome to the part of the day

Where I drink safety out-dated Slim Fasts..

And toast to the morning with a hearty:

"WTF??? I miss eggs and bacon!!" scream!

A woman can't live on Slim Fast alone!!" Yes, I suppose it IS a GOOD thing that the generous Slim Fast plan allows you to have a sensible dinner! (Oh yes,,, I heard YOU! Eating an egg and scoffing at me..).

This makes me wonder though, if the doctors, scientists and management of Slim Fast had a pow wow office meeting before the roll out of the Slim Fast plan, that went a little like this:

Lab coats and Suits are sitting around a huge mahogany table. The walls are molested with Slim Fast marketing, half the room is texting on their Smart Phones under the table.

Manager: Good morning everyone, we are very close to revealing our lustrous Slim Fast plan to the WORLD!! (raises and extends arms for effect).

**much clapping ensues**

**Skinny ass note taking secretary eats a dry donut, coughs out some crumbs, and wipes them off her note pad. Everyone stares at her for a moment but then redirect stares to the voluptuous coffee making secretary**

Manager: Yes, well, ahem, does anyone have any questions about the Slim Fast plan for the doctors?

**a hand goes up**

Fat Marketing Guy: So the plan is that we drink a delicious shake for breakfast, a delicious shake for lunch and then have a sensible dinner....

**Lead Doctor stares at him and cocks his head because this technically is NOT a question,, YET**

**awkward silence**

Manager: Yes, Marty, that is correct.

**awkward silence**

Manager: AND!!??

Fat Marty (who swears he is just big boned): This would suggest that fat people KNOW what the hell a "SENSIBLE" meal IS, if we did, we wouldn't be fat. I feel those donuts look very sensible.... VELMA!!

**Velma coughs more dry donut crumbs, voluptuous secretary brings her water as the men stare at her heaving chest and think about her honeybuns (what?? I had to add a little sex for some of you pervs!)**

Lead Doctor: Marty what did you have for dinner last night?? Let us try and break it down, together,, M'kay??

Fat Marty (who also has been known to point at his stomach and use the line "This is my winter fur",, in public): I had a 6 pack of chicken nuggets, plain cheeseburger, large fry and I split two orders of apple pies. Oh,, I almost forgot, I had a large promotional shake,,,,, it was mint chocolate chip and a Large Diet Coke.

Fat Assistant Doctor (who accepts his fatness but wears Man-spanxs): How long is the shake promotion? I love when they do that!! (looks around all giddy like)

**awkward silence**

Manager: Who did you split the apple pie orders with, Marty?

Fat Marty: No one, Did I say SPLIT?? I mean "SPLIT-UP". I ate two before the burger and two after.

Lead Doctor: OK, well,, we're going to go ahead and push the release date back a few months and focus on the development of our NEW FREE "Slim Fast Diet Plan Nutritional Educational Programs".

**THE END**

Maybe it's the lack of food, but yesterday I had a breakdown,,,, I had a breakdown,,,,, that made me have ANOTHER breakdown...... Wow,, a breakdown "squared",,, FANTASTIC!!

"But what could make you breakdown like that Seductress??" You ask wondering if the toilet broke again.

"Your life is all peaches and cream and Green olives!!"

Why YES, Yes it IS!!

(sometimes it's fun typing words that have no direct basis with reality. For example: a flying purple unicorn dipped in Dairy Queen Ice Cream cone chocolate and dusted with chic peas and love... ....Now THAT was fun!!!)

The first breakdown was emotional and all cryee,,, the second was a laughing breakdown because the first breakdown was over something SO trivial.

I mean who has a breakdown about a.......

Did you REALLY think I was going to give it up THAT easy? Hells NO!!

Food has been an issue here. So we are conserving it as best as we can. And by we, I mean me, and by conserve, I mean not eating (kidding).

Yesterday Traxx wanted a hot dog. I made the discovery that I had a heel crust of bread and one hot dog left,, PERFECT. I decided to not cook the hot dog in it's own pee water, I would George Foreman it as a special treat for my spawn. It was perfectly charred. I took a fourth of a slice of cheese (wrapped the rest back up cause I'm frugal like that) and a douse of ketchup and adorned the crust with it's condiment love (and my kisses).

Traxx stood happily holding my last bargain paper plate with my "artists rendition" of bread on it. I placed the hot dog on it's new diggs. The fact that Hot dogs are cylindrical and bargain paper plates are flimsy, came to haunt me as the hot dog rolled off it's mattress of bread toward the edge of a folding paper plate.

(The following happened in slow motion. Please read it as so to enhance the interactive qualities of this post,, thank you!!)

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

(Traxx stands unaware)

I decide quickly that instead of just grabbing the hot dog, I would support the crumbling plate and thus save the hot dog. This works in my mind but not in my reality. In my shock and the onset of a life long traumatic incident,, I slap the bottom of the floppy plate. This sends the hot dog catapulting into the air. Over my head. End over end. Cheese hugging its body for dear life.

(Traxx still stands unaware, I assess he may be a bit slow, but because he is handsome, it may be endearing)

The rogue hot dog continues it's journey until it slaps the wall. This was some Cirque De Soleil hot dog talent shit because instead of landing on the little dresser thing, it hit the wall, corrected itself to a completely vertical stance, and slipped BEHIND the dresser, leaving a bloody trail of ketchup in it's wake.

Now,, it is either trapped between the wall and the dresser thingy, or it has dove to the depths of a "behind the dresser un-vacuumed in ages" floor. So instead of falling to a somewhat clean kitchen floor, I propelled it into the hot dog abyss.

(Traxx realizes his lunch is missing from his plate and reacts the only way he knows how, he hits his knees and whines in another language, the dogs in the city, struck by this penetrating display of inexplicable decibeled temper, howl from the ear pain)

I decide to move the dresser and console the hot dog instead of Traxx. When I pull it out, it has a mini M&M and half a Cheerio on it. It also has been viciously attacked by the carcasses of 10,000 starving dust bunnies. I decide NOT to eat the mini M&M in a unbridled display of will power.

(Traxx sees the hot dog and remains on his little knees to praise the Cylindrical Meat Gods)

I then make a decision that alters my day and elicits an epic breakdown. I peel the cheese clinger off the dog. I rinse the dog. I start to sob about being in a position that I would actually feel the need to wash a dirty hot dog to present to my son to eat. I pat the hot dog dry. I retrieve the rest of the cleverly wrapped, frugally maintained cheese and say: "Screw it, this dog deserves to be enrobed in cheesy goodness!" and wrap the rest of the cheese slice around the dog.

With a smile, I replace the hot dog on the, now standing, child's plate and cautiously carry it to the table myself. As he sits down, I ruffle his now "too long to faux hawk" hair and kiss him on the cheek.

(Traxx is now giddy again and I decide to let him be "slow" for as long as he would like, I'll just buy a helmet for his safety)

He does not eat the hot dog. Apparently it is gross now. I begrudgingly give him oatmeal. I take a bite of the hot dog. I am saddened at it's is now "very apparent" to me, grossness. I give it to the puppy who thinks it is a steak, this makes me happy again.

A few hours later the second breakdown comes as I realize I had a freaking epic emotional breakdown about washing a damn hot dog. This is very comical to me because I like bizarre humor.

I am now laughing hysterically AGAIN.

Technically this is breakdown number tres over a hot dog.

I really need to get out more.

Random snippits of relative unrelativity..

I have not been sleeping at night. It pretty much sucks having 24 hours to think and try not to eat a box of cereal or the couch because I have no boxes of cereal in the house. I love the couch, I would hate to see it nom, nom, nommed on, so, I just lick it and cough out pretty, pretty, throw pillow hairballs!!

This 24 hour thought process is draining except that my brain is so talented at diverting reality and ciphering humor into things. I love that part of insanity. I highly recommend it, although NOT alone at 2AM that's just weird.

The programming at night wreaks of my failure as a human. People scream at me to get up off my couch and do something with my life. Pointing out that I am on the phone all day anyway, why don't I make a call that counts for something, I think the suicide hotline would be VERY upset at their crass approach to the value of my life.

Perhaps however, I shall enroll in a substandard trade school. Culinary school perhaps, or maybe train to become a court room reporter. There is also a possibility that I may be a fine artist and not know it.

I have drawn the Tippy the art test turtle. Tell me what you think.

Original Tippy

My version of Tippy

They nailed me on missing the hat reflection.

So I tried again.

They said I needed to work on my realism.

One more try and I was in!!

I also really, really want a Choppy and a Sham wow now.

I heart "As seen on TV" items.

At 3:15AM being able to fashion a cupcake the size of a Volkswagen Beetle seems vital to my my life.

Mmmmmmm

(Although I must confess as I was drawing this wonderfully realistic cherry, I thought of how sad my life must appear to you, I mean really,, who turns a VW Beetle into a cupcake in their blog?)

The following picture has absolutely no relevance to any part of this post. I just kinda Y it!!!

MUAH BABY!!!!

I would like to take a moment to comfort my men readers. I have had a moment of enlightenment while watching these infomercials about some common male "problems".

Your "dysfunction" does not concern me, neither does your small length or one "position" stance.

We can now "extend" to proper length when I purchase a multi-positional extension ladder, you can attain maximum length whilst not being limited to any one position, the possibilities are virtually unlimited!!! We can also stow it away in any small vertical location. This is very good news.

Yes, I did finally bite the bullet and put my couch up for sale. Prospective buyers are really not enthused about my couch "visitation" schedules. I don't give a shit, my couch would be emotionally scarred if I were not in it's life. I think shared custody is best at this point. I tried to give it full on "props" in the ad. It is working, I am getting responses because of it's beauty and the beam of heavenly light that flows down on it that would cast an angelic light in any home. I need to get over obsession because I need the money right now. I figure by the time the background and DNA tests on the prospective buyers come back I will be on the road to recovery. The lie detector testing will also buy me some healing time. WHAT??? I need to make sure that furniture is respected in the new owners life, no grape soda drinking whilst perched upon Sandi (you plan on allowing people to SIT on her??? GASP). And also, Sandi loathes couch sex, not that she EVER had to worry about that here, but we HAVE talked about it, as I am a responsible furniture owner.

In a sadder news issue. It seems I have finally fixed my toilet. Well, at least the "does not flush" issue seems fixed, the "gets backed up" malady is still there because my children eliminate poop the size of Smurfs, there is a new Smurf colony shat every day here.

Please enjoy the following comic interlude:

What color does a choking Smurf turn??


Dude, it's a freaking joke!!
And exactly where ARE your PANTS anyway????
This is a FAMILY ^%%#!@# Blog!!!

And now back to your regularly scheduled post, already in progress..

This "fixing" news is not sad for the joy and excitement of not having toilet water splashed on my face, but for another reason. Sexual fantasy speaking, my plumber sex drive is high. I will have to furnish another sex fantasy to get me through. I (of course) will alert you immediately as this happens. I am hoping that it deviate from the elderly Walmart greeter route.

Hmmm, I forgot how yummy Macgyver was...

Speaking of him,, you would be surprised at the imagination used in my fixing of my loo. I suspect it would be similar to Macgyver living on the site of a huge scrap yard adjacent to a Dollar Tree (you know he would run around all ,, ahem,, excited).

There was a safety pin, silicone, a bottle rocket, a beer, many precise welding molds, sparkle dust, a live giraffe came and put his hoof in the tank to secure a crack whilst the silicone adhered properly. Oh yes there were also a few gems (yes, gems!! Used for spacing, my toilet has "BLING" now!).

It IS possible that I am exaggerating about some of the items used. There was not a bottle rocket,,, that would be ridiculous as it would not light under water, what's wrong with you today??

But it is fixed now.

Bless me Father,, it has been about 2 days since I last dipped my hands in toilet water.. (Your basic bathroom confessional humor, you're welcome!)

I am all frothy about the lack of toilet interventions.

As frothy, but not limited to the level of frothy I was when I found out John mayer FINALLY noticed that my body is indeed a wonderland and sang about my pair of candy lips and bubblegum tongue.





It was a damn shame they could not pay me enough to take the time out of my busy schedule to do the video with John. As now it is subpar.

This gift is to be received and given freely. Cherish it, if already found. Have faith in finding it, if it is not.

YYYYYYYYY

YYYYYou are my safety rope Y hanging strong and untangled Y for me to grab onto Y you lovingly pull me up YYYY You are the rung Y I step up on to reach the stars Y I am excited to see what it looks like Y here with you at the top YYYY You are the song Y I sing to ease my loneliness Y breaking out of this pain Y to smile once more YYYY You are the music Y I dance through hard times to Y If we step on each others feet Y we both are learning when to lead YYYY You are the light Y shining loudly through the fog Y showing the way Y a strong beacon of hope YYYY

YYY

YYYYYou wish to listen Y to anything I choose to share Y without negativity Y always biased for me YYYY You wish to stand tall Y casting shadows for me Y when the sun is too bright Y you cool me in the heat YYYY You wish not run Y unless I run with you Y holding on to your hand Y giving me strength to escape YYYY You wish not to fall Y until we are ready Y with soft places for resting Y your arms always wide open YYYY You wish not stop Y until we have won the battle Y celebrating that the fight is over Y now it is time for sweet peace YYYY

YYY

YYYY I've always known Y that you are a hero Y even if no one else sees it Y when you feel alone YYYY I've always known Y your strong heart weathers the storms proudly Y to a finely aged patina Y so beautiful and wise YYYY I've always known Y the care you take in each decision Y never selfish or rushed Y you give all that you have YYYY I've always known Y your face will always shine with achievement Y no matter how small Y lending me hope for the future YYYY I've always known Y you'll look down only to offer Y a hand as it is needed Y and ever patiently now, you await for mine YYYY

YYYYYYYYY

Oh Honeybun..

Not Honeybun

I LOVE this!!!!!

I will!!

A Few Self Portraits:

This is of me and my friend "CrimeScene",
she's the blonde to whom I am always at boob level with.

Self portrait drawn in the heat of my Circus Peanut frenzy days!
My face was FANTAB-U-LOUS!!!
Damn balloon flew blew in front of it in the last second!!!

Remember THIS one?? Pretend Plumber sex happy self portrait..

My childhood had ups and downs, I think everyone could say the same. Being "normal" is tough, I never excelled at this (stop laughing). Everyone in our life has an image of what we are "supposed" to turn into, what they expect us to "be". Their perceived character that should be portrayed flawlessly. You can stray from the core of yourself for a while, but you will always return back there in the end. People spend loads of money re-inventing themselves. Correcting the "flaws" so no one will point fingers at the social atrocity that is "imperfection" or "not normal".

These differences are wonderful and should be accepted as such.

I have a wild streak (woohoooooo), I like the rock and roll edgy look, my kids called me "Emo" one day.

I said:

"Isn't that an Ostrich type, flightless bird? Why thank you, they have very nice legs!!"

Stereotypes and judgment start so young these days. It's sad.

Be WHO you are and you never have to remember who you SAID you were.

Now THIS is Honeybun

One Easter I was given a rabbit. It was a mini flop eared rabbit I named Honeybun. Honeybun could fit in the palm of my hand and was never supposed to grow bigger than a softball, however, he had other plans on what he would become ( I think he was a he??). He would not be what we told him he SHOULD be even though he was purchased and chosen specifically for those qualities. We wanted him to stay a miniature marshmallowy baby faced animal, I suspect he knew from day one that he would not.

I am not sure if he was just given the wrong species identification or if he had pituitary gland issues, but Honeybun would be come the "Clifford the BIG red dog" of the bunny world. I loved him and he grew and grew. I was small, this "miniature rabbit", if held under his arms would hang there and be almost as tall as me.

His ears were longer than Stretch Armstrong's arms caught on a taffy pull machine.

There is SOMETHING wrong with this picture,
but I just can't put my finger on it.

And there was more to this rabbit. He was sweet, calm and smart, he did not poop out of his cage (which if you have ever had a rabbit, this is just bizarro). He would sit longways on my chest for hours letting me play with his ears. I could set him down in the house and he would stay by my side and do that standing on his hind legs thing to look around. I loved him.

When I lost him I was heartbroken. There were replacement rabbits that pooped and pee'd on me. There were hamsters and guinea pigs that kept me up all night with their incessant scratching. There were silent fish that showed off by swimming on their backs a few days after I got them. There was the gerbil that bit me, then I saw him eat his own shat early on, so I did not even name it, it remained "It". There would never be another Honeybun. And he was always who he was supposed to be.

(cough, cough, I think there a lesson in this here post!)

I LOVE JUSTIN BEIBER!! and other trivial revelations....

I love my son. Traxx is funny, energetic, handsome and loving. Sometimes however, I try very hard to ignore him. I am sure this sounds awful to a few of you who do not have children and the joy of single parenting with a home prison sentence due to lack of household fundage. But when a 36lb boy is hanging off of YOUR leg whilst you knit lint snow bunny cozies for the church bazaar or lick the windows (just because), I think ignoring him is the smart thing to do.

Lately the boy has found another passion deviating him from the marvel and wonder of mommy leg travel experiences.

CLUB HOUSES!!!!

Aww, I love you TOO!!!

I know you are thinking this activity is Justin Beiber devoid and I should be ecstatic, and I would LOVE to announce that it HAS NOTHING to do with Justin Beiber, but unfortunately, HE IS involved in the later stages of Club house habitation.

The girls found the front piece to Traxx's crib under their bed along with 1000 lbs of the tainted toy carcasses of shameful room cleaning,,

Every time Justin Beiber gets made fun of,

A HOBO loses a tooth!!

OH and they also found a happy hobo that smells like the Banana Republic store under the bed.

I like Harvey. I told him that he should be a part of my family, but instead of saying "I thought I already was" like that nice big homeless boy from "The Blind Side", he said that the highway underpass provides more sustenance and entertainment. He stated that he would be leaving in the morning unless I made banana pancakes and allowed him to "motorboat" my breasts.

I think he will be staying a while now.

The crib-front has proved itself as being the perfect "Grade A" club house wall. It is thin and light, will stand tall in 10,052 household locations and supports a spotless clean sheet like no ones business. The girls quickly assessed its vitality to great playtime bliss this weekend. Traxx was in awe of the notion of a "secret room" within a room.

The girls helped him fashion one and gave him a few clear building code violations to master.

Codes such as, but not limited to:

Shocked at the blatant Wubbie ABUSE!!

Using mommies Wubbie (that of course is imaginary to everyone else but me and the scary Cocoa Puff bird animal thing)

Aw Yes, I once was a Pier One Whore.
Now I just get the catalogs for the articles, I promise!

Sitting irreverently on a club house floor full of mommies lost dreams of grandeur, and the decorative shopping opportunity "skeletons" of a better time (Aka: Pier one pillows)

Currently watching cup cake porn on YouTube.

Jelly, in mass amounts, slipping off of stale bread

So when the girls went to their dad's, Traxx took up residency in the club house giving me a much needed break. The breaks waned in length of time between feedings as Traxx loves jumping up and snapping raw chicken from my hand like an alligator at a nature theme park, or is that sucking a semi-dry chicken salad sandwich out of my hand like a starving ant eater *shrugs*.

And then, I was invited into his world. I accepted graciously as I saw my opportunity to free my Wubby and lick jelly off of Pier one pillows.

I crawled in slowly and realized once again a secret that I had long forgotten from childhood.

Club houses ARE fun!!

You can't stay in the adult world for very long whilst crouching in a club house with a giggly 4 year old host. And why would you want to? Me and Traxx read a few books, played cars and Littlest pet shop for a while and of course got a little Bieber Fever therapy.

The glow from a neon pink sheet makes everything look different and new for a while (although the sound quality was not diluted there and my ears still bleed form the musical abuse).

And I remembered that even in the worst of times, a child's laughter can heal the pain and worry (if only for a moment). And that love and imagination STILL rock the Kasbah!

I also thought this was good practice for living in a cardboard box, but happy hobo Harvey promises he would always provide shelter for me at the top of the bridge, away from the peeing stoop. Life is good.