What is it? Wednesday?

Just a moment ago. I had to pee so bad- so, so bad- that I thanked my lucky stars I was in a rental. I knew I was in trouble when, while trolling thru Pier 1 searching for a sette, I ignored my bladder. And then I went to the preschool to get Calvin. On the drive home, I had a vision of me getting pulled over for speeding. In my mind, I threw my license out the window and yelled my apologies as I burned rubber and merged back into traffic. Like that wasn't enough, I took a breath and did that cruddy, unexpected choking thing. I was trying to cross my legs, press the gas and avoid the po-po. Coughing didn't help. So I sipped my diet coke with distain since it was what got me into this mess in the first place. It was rough. But I managed.
After I recovered, I asked Calvin the Caboose questions about his day. He had burst into the car with an energetic, "We talked a wacoonth in thienthe!" (Keep up, man. He said science.) so I had a good jumping off point for out chat.
"Mom, thith ith my wacoon mathk." He said while lifting his balck and white creation up so I could see it in the rearview.
"Did you know wacoonth don't like people?" I did the required "No, I didn't know that."
 A second later he announced, "I don't like you."
I sat up just a touch straiter to see him in the mirror. He lifted his mask up off his face.
"It'th only 'cauth I'm wearing my mathk."

I suggest that if you do not currently have a four year old in your life, get one. They are awethome.

So are 6, 11, 12 and 14 year olds.

On a seperate note, I deleted the Facebook app off of my phone. And the US magazine app. Not the US Weekly- news movers and shakers app. The US-look who moved it and it popped out and guess who's shakin' in on a yacht with P-Diddy app.
I have decided I am wasting moments here and there and I'll never reach a few of my personal goals with these brain suckers at my finger tips. Best to keep them down the hall...on the computer.
I'm pleased to announce that at the very least, my bathroom breaks are much shoter. And not because I have over come some intense intestinal problem. The length of my potty breaks were in direct proportion to the length of the facebook news feed and the Zooey Deschanel article.
Too much honesty? Forgive me.

I'm doing all of this in the hopes of checking it off of my "Do It Or Feel Bad Forever" list.
On the top of that list: write a book.
That goal popped up a few years ago. I was trying to start a journal, a little compilation of who I am and how I got here.
Very boring.
So I took the liberty of writing it in narrative form.
Suddenly, it was much more fun.
I started with my first date with my husband. And 400 pages later, I think I may have a book on my hands. What I will do with it, I know not. I may simply print it, bind it and set it on my shelf. The only library it may rest in will be my own. Tucked away in the room that, right now, needs a sette.
And Pier1 is over priced.
And I need a refill.


Let's chat soon, yes?