Will they fit under his face guard?
I'm feeling uninspired today so I'm just changing the colours and fonts and hoping that will enhance your reading experience to the point where you won't really notice the quality of the writing.
photo credit
Day two husbandless: the already-read newspapers are piling up, the kitchen garbage doesn't magically empty itself every morning any more, and Angus needs glasses. Okay, I probably can't blame that last one on Matt being off skiing in the French Alps. Took the kids to the eye doctor. Eve was very nervous and unhappy on the way there -- I couldn't seem to convince her that they were just going to look at her eyes, not stick needles in them or remove them or anything. Naturally once we got there she climbed up and sat in the chair like it was her personal throne and kept saying "my eyes are great, really, I just want to see what kind of things you have here" and giggling like a sorority girl on ecstasy. Angus was calm on the way there, but took the whole business much more seriously. The eye doctor was shining a light in his eye and saying, okay, just look at my left ear while I do this and Angus was like, "your ear? I can't see your ear, where's your ear? OH MY GOD I CAN'T SEE AN EAR!!!" Apparently he's a little farsighted on the left and a little nearsighted on the right. Unbalanced, like his mother. Poor guy -- he's inherited my crappy eyesight as well as my penchant for treating every single occurrence as if it's a major league disaster.
At one point the doctor was flipping through a book of numbers in red and green patterns, and Angus got all the left pages and none of the right, and the doctor explained the test and said we should keep an eye on it for possible colour blindness issues, then turned to the computer. I saw Angus looking at me and I said it's nothing to worry about and he said "so I don't have some kind of eye disease?" and I had to explain he's probably just like his father, and he will need a wife to dress him every day to avoid social ostracization, but other than that he's fine. Although if you saw some of the things both of them try to wear together, you'd really be forgiven for wondering about that.
I'm reading a cool book of science fiction stories by women, paired with essays about feminism in science fiction, but I can't remember the title right now. A little light on the Biblio, I know. Hey, my husband's away and I have the season premiere of Lost on the PVR. Priorities, people.
photo credit
Day two husbandless: the already-read newspapers are piling up, the kitchen garbage doesn't magically empty itself every morning any more, and Angus needs glasses. Okay, I probably can't blame that last one on Matt being off skiing in the French Alps. Took the kids to the eye doctor. Eve was very nervous and unhappy on the way there -- I couldn't seem to convince her that they were just going to look at her eyes, not stick needles in them or remove them or anything. Naturally once we got there she climbed up and sat in the chair like it was her personal throne and kept saying "my eyes are great, really, I just want to see what kind of things you have here" and giggling like a sorority girl on ecstasy. Angus was calm on the way there, but took the whole business much more seriously. The eye doctor was shining a light in his eye and saying, okay, just look at my left ear while I do this and Angus was like, "your ear? I can't see your ear, where's your ear? OH MY GOD I CAN'T SEE AN EAR!!!" Apparently he's a little farsighted on the left and a little nearsighted on the right. Unbalanced, like his mother. Poor guy -- he's inherited my crappy eyesight as well as my penchant for treating every single occurrence as if it's a major league disaster. At one point the doctor was flipping through a book of numbers in red and green patterns, and Angus got all the left pages and none of the right, and the doctor explained the test and said we should keep an eye on it for possible colour blindness issues, then turned to the computer. I saw Angus looking at me and I said it's nothing to worry about and he said "so I don't have some kind of eye disease?" and I had to explain he's probably just like his father, and he will need a wife to dress him every day to avoid social ostracization, but other than that he's fine. Although if you saw some of the things both of them try to wear together, you'd really be forgiven for wondering about that.
I'm reading a cool book of science fiction stories by women, paired with essays about feminism in science fiction, but I can't remember the title right now. A little light on the Biblio, I know. Hey, my husband's away and I have the season premiere of Lost on the PVR. Priorities, people.
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