…for my husband’s grandpa, and so, once the kids were sedated with chocolate and a movie, we decided to come out here and light a fire and drink a beer(s) and listen to music and talk.
Other than Brad finally saying “Hey, did you know the show ‘Lost’ is about purgatory?,” it’s been pretty quiet.
Visit my house sometime and you’ll realize that’s not all bad, honestly. Quiet. But only when it’s relaxing, and not because I’m spinning on so much that I can’t talk.
Brad’s purgatory comment brought my head to a screeching halt. Not that I have particular feelings about it one way or the other (I figure I’ve driven cross-country twice with my kids, once through the “look my pee evaporates when it hits the ground, mom” desert in June; purgatory? Bring it on.), but because purgatory equates to death and, once your dead, Facebook likes and blog pages and whether to keep the Facebook page or the blog or both (see where my mind has been?) hold as much weight as me telling the boys NOT to eat Fun Dip in the van.
This on the other hand?
And, so, I’m gonna stop my head here for awhile.