groan up

Amen to that last bit, sistah.

[Can I get a witness? -- GW]

you? you'll never give up that inner sprite.

thank gourd.

[I'll also never give up that inner 7-Up, that inner Fresca, or that inner ginger-ale-when-my-stomach-hurts. -- GW]

GW: I'm sorry about the rough week and the loss of your high school principal. I ran into my old high school principal just before I moved to Phoenix. He recalled my late cousin who taught English there (and was fired before I started as a Freshman). I recall her grading a paper and giving a boy an "F" with this note (written in Red ink, of course): "Maybe if you stopped picking your nose so much in class and picked your brain, you might have done better". She was off the payroll within months. But I loved her. So, Andy Martello has a Birthday! Very cool. This is a great blog! :)

[Thanks, Michael. -- GW]

Having kids give me a reason to keep acting childish. That's why I keep having them.

[You're a guy. You can act childish forever and get away with it. -- GW]

Ahhh, "maple seed ". We called them "whirleybirds".

[We called them "Pinocchio noses." We weren't as clever as you.]

[That's one of my pipe dreams for when I retire, if I can afford it. I always wanted to go to culinary school, but any time I wanted to do anything, someone would always say I needed to be doing something else "to fall back on." That business degree I "fell back on" bit me in the butt when the economy began crashing, as you may recall. It was one of my other passions (for which I was supposed to have a fallback: writing) that saved me from that debacle.

I'm almost glad that I didn't go to culinary school, though, but only because it's funny to say I put it "on the back burner." -- GW]

"Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack..." Were you the one who sang that? It was on Lomax this morning. Arf arf arf ARF. ARF. ARF.

[1. I was the one who used to do "Miss Mary Mack," but I forgot to count it as something I haven't done because I sing it multiple times during the day (if you sing "Miss Mary Mack" in your head while you're washing your hands with antibacterial soap, you're giving the soap enough time to kill the germs).
B. I'm jealous that you get Lomax and I don't.
iii. I have a little trouble with indexing. -- GW]

Aw, thank you. I totally heart you, you know.

[I heart you right back. If you were here, I'd split my gum with you, just 'cos I know it'd gross out both of our husbands. -- GW]

You need to set up years of precedence to be able to get away with occasional immaturity every so often.

Mature when it counts followed by completely irrational immaturity.

Couple all that with a playful sense of humor and nobody will call you out on such things.

Not easy to do, but it works.

[It works if one is male. If one is female, not so much.

Case in point: I try very hard not to cry in front of That Man of Mine (sentimental commercials or happy-ended movies don't count). What I do most of the time is completely suck it up. So yesterday, I had a rough day at work, my joints hurt, and he interrupts me while I'm talking and starts talking about freaking baseball cards. I lose it. He tells me to stop being a baby.

(Note to everyone who is now ready to represent: He has been thoroughly ripped a new asshole and is properly ashamed of himself already.)

But you see that this is the thanks I get for being a grown-up the rest of the time.]

BOOBS! (heh-heh)

[Heh. -- GW]