So much, hey. The weather is gorgeous. One could almost accomplish anything. This weekend we cleaned house, Squire under threat of "If you can't clean your room I'll be forced to clean it for you!" --this is adolescence, I guess, when that sounds like a threat instead of a treat. And how interesting that there's just the one letter "h" between the two, and yet a vast difference. A vas deferens. Oh, health class, I remember you so well. I remember everything.
Today I saw an older man wearing what maybe was supposed to be a hipster ironic shirt, or maybe it was truly vintage. "Boogie till you drop!" it said. Okay, mister. But he had varicose veins and had to walk down the hill sideways so it was a different kind of irony. Maybe he needs a trucker cap.
I like it when I exercise and an hour later my arms are all "HI! WE ARE YOUR ARMS! REMEMBER US!" trembling like a girl in the Twilight books with their newfound power. I haven't actually read any of the Twilight books; I like my romance a little pornier I think. One year for Christmas I gave people Harlequins with the interesting bits highlighted (interesting bits being both spelling errors, egregious dialogue, and stuff like "She felt his masculine desire against her." I don't wish I were poor again but it does seem that I used to be a little more creative with gifts. Now I'm all HERE'S A BOOK YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO READ, YO. HAVE SOME FLOWERS.