Friday, March 13, 2009

While we're being honest

I am really sick of being puked on.

Then again, the girl rolls over, eats apples, holds her head up, sleeps most nights, loves me best (ask Pete about last night - or really, maybe night) and gazes in wide wonder at Harry.

Meanwhile, I made it through the wilderness (oops, I'm still not Madonna) I mean the tonsillitis and tonight we will have friends over for burgers on the grill and other summer sounding food in hopes of it serving as an offering to the weather gods.

Because, while I'm really sick of being puked on, I cannot stand the thought of being cold anymore.

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