WHY CAN'T I GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD?
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I finally got to talk to the Mommy-pants yesterday. Some things never change. Like the answer to
"What have you been up to Mom?"
"Busy"
Busy compiles all of the stuff on the mental to do list and plops it down into one, heavy word.
You know what would be great? Is if the answer was
"Oh, not too much. Drank some tea, reading a little, disscussing what our favorite colors are with your Dad....getting a massage later"
Until then, I worry (while she is of course, worrying her pants off about me).
Is that a hint of guilt that I just caught a whiff of? Na, it was probably the lavendar sitting on my desk that I picked on yesterday's lunch time walk through the fields. Can't get more safe than that.
Maybe the transatlantic worrying algebraically cancels out?
Nope
As is usually the case, arithmetic seems more applicable here.
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