The whim a newly turned 7-year old has controlled my day. I write to you from the inside of an ill-kept and dilapidated mall from the perch of a metal bench overlooking an ice-skating rink filled with crying children and Asian preteens wearing skating skirts and poignant and culturally significant accessories.
I’m at a birthday party for one of my daughter’s classmates. The other parents are chatting over bad pizza and juice boxes but I begged off the chat with claims of work deadlines - true, I have scads of work due, yet I spend my valuable time writing to you. The other parent who is missing from the parent cluster fuck is Good 'Ol Mom. Remember her?
G’OM slipped the baby out of the sling, slipped into a pair of ice skates and is gliding around the rink with a beatific smile on her face. She is genuinely enjoying the moment while I sit in bitter judgment of mall itself and of the circle of fat kids participating in a Yugioh Tournament. I know, I should be put in a cage, but these are my real feelings.
Once again G’OM has caused my head to turn and opened my mind to ... well, to the possibility of figuring out how Rush Limbaugh obtained all that prescription medicine with no consequences. If Rush wouldn't have gotten that radio gig, I bet he would be at the mall playing Yugioh!
My sincerest sympathies! That is something no woman should have to endure. You, my friend, are a brave soul.
Posted by: Avery | October 13, 2007 at 05:11 PM
I want to formulate a comment but I'm too busy laughing at the notion that you should be put in a cage.
Posted by: Liz | October 13, 2007 at 08:19 PM