So many posts run round my head. They want my fingers to type them, but I'm somewhere else instead.
I hope to put up Christmas decorations soon. I don't know if it will happen. I'm angry because the last couple of Christmases I haven't had all of my decorations because Favorite Young Man won't get them out of the attic for me. I can't get them out on my own (not strong enough to pull them through the attic opening, especially while standing on a ladder because of my fear of heights).
If FYM won't acquiesce to my requests for help, then I might not decorate this year. That'll teach him because if I don't decorate he won't have gifts under the tree.
You have no idea how tempted I am to give you his phone number and ask you all to call and text him with a reminder that I'm the mama who changed his diapers and fed him at my breast and dealt with all his teenage crap and still deal with all his adult crap, so he should get his ass over here to help me.
I won't do that, of course.
Nope. Not gonna do it.
I apologize for not visiting your blogs. So much going on, and one day, I might have time to start telling you about it. I hope my fellow Americans enjoyed the Thanksgiving holiday. Wait till you hear the story about how I dumped the contents of the gravy boat on Uncle Fred's head because he said we don't understand how brilliant Snuffatrumpagus is.
Infinities of love,
|I wonder if Colton is a public high school.|
If it is, then their sign is (sadly) what I expect of a public school.
If it's a private school, then put away your wallets, parents.