Currently Unsupervised

Mate has been working late and consumed with soccer, and although he makes an effort not to neglect me, well, the hole he leaves is noticeable. I don't think Mate realized how noticeable until occurred to him that he hadn't seen Big T for two days running.
"That's okay. He thinks we're getting a divorce."
"What?" Mate asked.
"Well, he keeps saying, 'Has dad left you tonight'? And he says it every time you're gone. I'm this close to saying, 'Yes, and you're getting a new stepmother who's almost your age.'"
Mate snorts. "I don't have the convertible to attract them. Volunteering for soccer is my mid-life crisis."
"Well, if it doesn't involve a sweet young thang and a convertible, by all means keep volunteering."
But, well, with Big T in his room like Grendel, plotting the downfall of the loud, noisy church-singers in the neighborhood (or something-- I don't think its papered with dead bodies yet, but you never know) and me writing… well, it really is a tragedy when the internet goes down and Pandora cuts out. I AM ALONE IN MY OWN HEAD. And it is a bad thing.
So, that being said, I'm looking forward to the kids coming home tomorrow, and even better, my mom has sent pictures, which turn out to be a joy for the entire family.
See-- today, I got the following pictures, with captions:
Caption: We caught a crab.


Caption: And a starfish

Now look! Aren't the pictures adorable? Aren't my children lovely? Isn't it sweet that when asked to wear a sweater she didn't care too much about Squish picked her older sister's old hand-me-down sweater (which, btw, Chicken found in the lost and found in my classroom when I was cleaning it out at the end of the year?)
So, I get these adorable pictures of my spawn, and I am happy.
And then I send them to Chicken, who is trying to do homework, and her response is this:
OMG--What the hell is that expression on ZB's face in the group shot? And how many times did Grandma call Squish by my name in that sweater that I wore for six years?
I cracked up.
I think that expression is "HOLY CRAP IT'S A CRAB." And she ASKED to wear that sweatshirt.
To which Chicken replied:
It was a passive aggressive move to replace me with her--don't trust the innocent cuteness of the expression. IT'S ALL A TRAP.
Me:
Sure it is.
Chicken:
And I'm using that picture of Zoomboy as my background for my phone. Look--
Caption: I choose YOU, Safari!

And, well, I couldn't answer for a while. I was laughing until I peed.
Chicken:
What?
Me:
LMFAO
Chicken:
Well you should stop sending me pictures that are comedy gold. That picture is going to be around FOREVER.
God, I hope so. I really really hope so, because I'm still laughing.
Anyway--
So this is life home, alone, with only my computer for company. I have to admit, I finished a proofread and two big deal blogposts yesterday-- but no fiction. TODAY I am writing fiction. Oddly enough, that's my job.
Oh--

The animals are glad I'm back. This is Steve, putting more scars on my shoulders, and I'd show you a picture of the dog, but he's still trying to become my bra, and frankly, any picture of him right now would be a little personal.

And work related-- don't forget-- Beneath the Stain is on pre-sale RIGHT HERE!

And Racing for the Sun is out on audiobook RIGHT HERE!

And Bells of Times Square is on pre-sale RIGHT HERE!
And Amy was a guest blogger for Elisa Rolle RIGHT HERE!
And DON'T forget that *kermit flail* Monday is coming up, writers-- I can only pimp your wares if I get your cover pic, blurb, and buy link in my inbox!
Peace out!
Amy
Published on July 30, 2014 16:55
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