I have been funkadelic this
year week. Maybe its hormones or stress or maybe I’m just insane.
I wake up feeling all old and droopy and gaggy.
Some times I take the advice of Lynn’s mom and “Put some lipstick on. You’ll feel better.”
For days when that doesn’t work, I’ll also take a stab at the ‘ole hair-do.
But because I’m having to grow out the “boing-boing”, the scarf is back on in a matter of minutes.
And heaven forbid The Dark Knight is also in a funk….
(I don’t know why he’s thinking of himself)
But man do we have some overlapping moods. And when we’re not happy, it trickles down to the midgets.
But it was worse before kids. Anytime we were having simultaneous funks, we’d just have to work it out. You know, with communication. All I want to do is sit on the porch in a ski-mask.
The Dark Knight wants to go do things.
When we lived in Africa it was particularly hard because we were VERY isolated. I’d be in a deep dark place and he’d be all “We’re going on an excursion through the southside of HELL!” (Or the beach or whatever!)
When we first moved into the wine country we were surrounded by mountains and vineyards. It was torture. I know.
I had a hard time with the transition. He drug me out of the house because I was funky and he was funky.
We found a large hilly vineyard and he started driving up their private road.
That made me funky AND terrified.
…. we drove to the top of the hill and the sun was setting. It really was beautiful.
The Dark Knight suggested I get out of the car and stand on the roof for a better photo. I think he was probably using me as a decoy to see if there were snipers.
So, I got out and stood on the roof of the ‘ole Merc.
He started driving again.
And heaven knows I can hardly balance on a basic, stationary surface.
And because he heard my Sasquatch feet pounding around on the top of the car he screeched to a halt.
And I could not control my limbs.
And I gallumped down the front of the car like a freaking antelope.
And to this day we’re all shocked that I landed on my feet.
And as I was recovering, The Dark Knight and I looked at each other to figure out what on God’s green earth just happened.
And we simultaneously knew it was completely the other person’s fault.
I got back in the car with my panties in a wad. The Dark Knight was fairly waddy himself.
All I can say is thank goodness for random critters in Africa!
They saved us from many stupid conversations.
You can always dodge a bullet when there is a cute animal around.
Why aren’t there better critters here?