live in the sunshine

fuck being witty.

so when my mom was leaving and jdg must've been on iron bridge - zakkary cut himself on that fucking pottery barn cube thing that i use as an end table and to the chippenham hospital we go.  five hours of me and jdg recanting our stories - hospital stories, kids, kids he teaches, my hopeful job, my dad coming, the minivan, his sister and the baby, his folks (a little) - the ring i bought at a yardsale and swear i should bring it to antique road show and finance my first plantation and yacht! but anyway - zakkary was a semi-good sport about it - up and until the lidocaine shot.  i mean that shit is murder - here you have this open wound that hurts like fuck anyway - and they wanna keep stick needles in it.  

i would've been fucking screaming too!

i told him he was strong and showed courage and now he's at home with his dad when i just wanna snuggle him and tell him what a good sport he was and how i admired him throughout.  his singing throughout the day at the hospital was the only thing that could've calmed me down - the only that i remember keeping me sane for years.

then i got back and my mom wanted to kill herself with the three babies and she left - i ran into a friend and we're watching sherlock holmes while i blog, catch up on the internerd and wish it was tomorrow.

but until then i'm noshing on vanilla ice cream and gonna post that making out would be perfect before the end of the flick.  let's see if dude checks it.