My kids have picked up my extremely bad habit of jotting down thoughts. Maybe this stems from not enough common sense, but we put things in writing so they can haunt us for the rest of our lives. We make friends and enemies with our written words. It’s not smart.
FringeBoy constantly makes these little cartoon books. Once an idea is on paper, it’s off his radar and left for his nosy mother to find. If I want to know what’s going on inside my son’s head, I just leave him alone with a pencil and a few scraps of paper. He never intends for me to read, so I can’t share his musings with all mankind and the cat sitting on your lap. It’s unfortunate.
While scrolling through my two thousand too many photos stored on my hard drive and causing my computer to run at the speed of sludge, I happened upon this note from my son. It’s a few years old, but made me laugh just as much as the first time I found it resting next to my coffee cup.
No real news to report on the Fringe. I can sum up my weekend in one word – SNOW.
I can sum up my month in one word – SNOW.
My life in three words – SNOW, SLEET, and ICE.
The back of my house is leaking like a rusty faucet and the big melt is months out. About March, I may start sleeping in a life vest. Major flooding seems inevitable. For now we will pick away at the ice jam creeping under the back roof.
Thankfully the weather didn’t interrupt the Super Bowl. Half our country’s men would have had cardiac episodes.
FringeMan and I considered having a Super Bowl party, but then we remembered we canceled cable in order to save money. “You don’t think anyone would want to come over and listen to the game on the radio, do you?” I asked knowing the answer in my heart.
I did not watch the game.
I did not see any hysterical commercials.
I am not terribly sad.
I don’t even miss cable.
I can watch Pickers online.
I do hope your team won!
Tell me about the best commercial. I may be persuaded to watch it online.